them, Sir. Here--dear me, what can I have done with them? I thought
I had them somewhere about me. (_Pats his various pockets. A thought
strikes him. He pulls out his watch_.) Ah, of course, how foolish of
me! I generally carry them in my watch-case.

[_Opens watch, produces them, and hands them up to Magistrate_.

_Mr. Pheasant_. Dear me!--so these are gloves. I know I am
inexperienced in these matters, but they look to me rather like
elastic bands. (_Roars of laughter. Mr. PHEASANT tries them on._)
However, they teem to fit very nicely. Yes, who is the next witness?

_The Earl of Arriemore_ (_entering the witness-box_). I am, my noble
sportsman.

_Mr. Pheasant_. Who are you?

_The Earl of Arriemore_. ARRIEMORE'S my name, yer Washup, wich I'm a
bloomin' Lord.

_Mr. Pheasant_. Of course--of course. Now tell me, have you ever boxed
at all yourself?

_The Earl of Arriemore_. Never, thwulp me, never! But I like to set
the lads on to do a bit of millin' for me.

_Mr. Pheasant_. Quite so. Very right and proper. What do you say to
the gloves produced by the inspector?

_The Earl of Arriemore_. Call _them_ gloves? Why, I calls 'em
woolsacks, that's what I calls 'em. [_Much laughter._

_Mr. Pheasant_. No doubt, that would be so. But now with regard to
these other gloves, do you say they would be calculated to deaden the
force of a blow; in fact, to prevent such a contest from degenerating
into a merely brutal exhibition, and to make it, as I understand it
ought to be, a contest of pure skill?

_The Earl of Arriemore_. That's just it. Why, two babbies might box
with them gloves and do themselves no harm. And, as to skill, why it
wants a lot of skill to hit with 'em at all.

[_Winks at Lord TRIMI GLOVESON, who winks back._

_Mr. Pheasant_. Really? That is very interesting, very interesting
indeed! I think perhaps the best plan will be for the two
principals to accompany me into my private room, to give a practical
exemplification of the manner in which such a contest is generally
conducted. (_At this point the learned Magistrate retired from the
Bench, and was followed into his private room by LOO BOBBETT. BEN
MOUSETRAP, and their Seconds. After an hour's interval, Mr. PHEASANT
returned to the Bench alone_.) I will give my decision at once. The
prize must be handed over to Mr. MOUSETRAP. That last cross-counter
of his fairly settled Mr. BOBBETT. I held the watch myself, and I
know that he lay on the ground