rs. And there's a case coming by and by that he'll
have to look a bit serious over. However--

"Jane Johnson!"

Mrs Johnson is here present, and reminds the Sergeant that she is.

Then begins, or does begin in most courts, the same dreary old drone,
like the giving out of a hymn, of the same dreary old charge:

"You--Are--Charged--With--Being--Drunk--And--Disorderly--In--Such--And--
Such--A--Street--How--Do--You--Plead--Guilty--Or--Not--Guilty?" But they
are less orthodox here. The "disorderly" has dropped out of Mrs
Johnson's charge somehow, on the way from the charge room. I don't know
what has been going on behind the scenes, but, anyway, it is Christmas-
time, and the Sergeant seems anxious to let Mrs Johnson off lightly. It
means anything from twenty-four hours or five shillings to three months
on the Island for her. The lawyers and the police--especially the
lawyers--are secretly afraid of Mrs Johnson.

However, again--

The Sergeant: "This woman has not been here for six weeks, your
Worship."

Mrs Johnson (who has him set and has been waiting for him for a year or
so): "It's a damned lie, Mr Isaacs. I was here last Wednesday!" Then,
after a horrified pause in the Court: "But I beg _your_ pardon, Mr
Isaacs."

His Worship's head goes down again. The "laughter" doesn't come here,
either. There is a whispered consultation, and (it being Christmas-time)
they compromise with Mrs Johnson for "five shillings or the risin'," and
she thanks his Worship and is escorted out, rather more hurriedly than
is comportable with her dignity, for she remarks about it.

The members of the Johnsonian sisterhood have reason to be thankful for
the "lift" she has given them, for they all get off lightly, and even
the awful resister of Law-an'-order is forgiven. Mrs Johnson has money
and is waiting outside to stand beers for them; she always shouts for
the boys when she has it. And--what good does it all do?

It is very hard to touch the heart of a woman who is down, though they
are intensely sympathetic amongst themselves. It is nearly as hard as it
is to combat the pride of a hard-working woman in poverty. It was such
women as Mrs Johnson, One-Eyed Kate, and their sisters who led Paris to
Versailles; and a King and a Queen died for it. It is such women as
Mrs Johnson and One-Eyed Kate and their sisters who will lead a greater
Paris to a greater Versailles some day, and many "Trust" kings and
queens, and their princes and pr