nd render the same injury to literature that
persons of loose morals do to society. In general, they are nothing
short of a sacrilegious profanation of the dead, and I would almost as
soon see the ghost of a departed friend as the translation of a defunct
author, for they bear the same relation. The regular translator, in
fact, is nothing less than a literary ghoul, who lives upon the mangled
carcasses of the departed--a mere sack-'em-up, who disinters the dead,
and sells their remains for money. You, sir, might have been better and
more honestly employed than in wasting your time upon a translation.
These are works that no men or class of men, except bishops, chandlers,
and pastrycooks, ought to have anything to do with; and as you, I
presume, are not a bishop, nor a chandler, nor a pastrycook, I recommend
you to spare your countrymen in future. Biddy Corcoran, as the court is
determined to punish you severely, the penalty against you is, that you
be compelled to read the translation in question once a week for the
next three months. I had intended to send you to the treadmill for the
same space of time: but, on looking more closely into the nature of your
offence, I felt it my duty to visit you with a much severer punishment."

"That, your worship," replied the translator, "is no punishment at all;
instead of that, it will be a pleasure to read my translation, and as
you have pronounced her to be guilty, it goes in the very teeth of your
decision."

"What--what--what kind of language is this, sir?" exclaimed Sir Spigot
Sputter! "This is disrespect to the court, sir. In the teeth of his
decision! His worship's decision, sir, has no teeth."

"Indeed, on second thoughts, I think not, sir," replied, the indignant
wit and translator; "it is indeed a very toothless decision, and
exceedingly appropriate in passing sentence upon an old woman in the
same state."

"Eh--eh," said Sir Spigot, "which old woman? who do you mean, sir?
Yourself or the culprit? Eh? eh?"

"Your worship forgets that there are four of us," replied the
translator.

"Well, sir! well, sir! But as to the culprit--that old woman
there--having no teeth, that is not her fault," replied Sir Spigot; "if
she hasn't teeth, she has gum enough--eh! eh! you must admit that, sir."

"You all appear to have gum enough," replied the wit, "and nothing but
gum, only it is gum arabic to me, I know."

"You have treated this court with disrespect, sir," said Coke, ver