lonious assault it's
all right with me. I don't get nothing out of it nohow," was the police
officer's reply.

"Get them together," was the suggestion made by several. Alfred
interfered by saying: "I'm willing to get together or do anything that's
fair but I'm not going to travel with this gang of rowdies another day."

The chief nudged him to cease and whispered: "Then they'll put you in
jail."

"Well, I'll put them in jail, too," retorted Alfred.

"What charges will you prefer against them; you stated you had never had
trouble with them before?"

"But look what they have done to me," persisted Alfred. "They have
plagued me until I couldn't have a minute's peace of mind, and then they
hit me with a rotten tomattus as big as a gourd, why--?"

The chief here interrupted Alfred to inform him that in law a rotten
tomato was not considered a dangerous weapon.

"Well, if anybody would hit you with a rotten tomattus, I know what
you'd do; you'd shoot 'em, that's what you'd do."

"Why, there was no tomattuses on the table; I can prove it by the
landlord."

"Them fellers went to the slop barrel and fished it out; didn't I smell
old sour swill on it. Why the smell of that tomattus would made a dog
sick."

Whether it was Alfred's anger, emphasized by his smacking his hands
together, his hurried speech, or the description of the condition of the
tomato, the laughter that convulsed all seemed to make him more
indignant.

With heightened voice and more forcible gestures he continued: "If I do
live in a little town, I've been away from home before, and I won't let
no son-of-a-gun ride over me even if he is as big as the side of a
house. I've got a home; I've got good people; I can go to them and I
won't travel another day with a pack of drunken rowdies. You can do with
me as you please. You say there's no law agin heavin' rotten tomattuses
at a person in a banquet. What kind of law have you got in Titusville?
If anybody would hit another with a tomattus at the dinner table in
Brownsville they'd beat hell out of him quicker'n you could say 'Jack
Robinson.'"

The remainder of Alfred's forcible, if not eloquent, speech was drowned
by laughter. Half a dozen present volunteered to go his bail.

Numerous attempts were made in the early Sunday morning to influence
Alfred to continue his travels with the troupe. To all arguments he gave
the same answer: "No; I'll not travel further with a lot of drunken
rowdies."

With al