e man
if he could change me a hundred-dollar bill. And he said he would if
I bought a drink. I gave him the bill and then he wouldn't give me the
change."

The magistrate was staring at him in perplexity. "You gave him a
hundred-dollar bill!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, your Honor," said Jurgis.

"Where did you get it?"

"A man gave it to me, your Honor."

"A man? What man, and what for?"

"A young man I met upon the street, your Honor. I had been begging."

There was a titter in the courtroom; the officer who was holding Jurgis
put up his hand to hide a smile, and the magistrate smiled without
trying to hide it. "It's true, your Honor!" cried Jurgis, passionately.

"You had been drinking as well as begging last night, had you not?"
inquired the magistrate. "No, your Honor--" protested Jurgis. "I--"

"You had not had anything to drink?"

"Why, yes, your Honor, I had--"

"What did you have?"

"I had a bottle of something--I don't know what it was--something that
burned--"

There was again a laugh round the courtroom, stopping suddenly as the
magistrate looked up and frowned. "Have you ever been arrested before?"
he asked abruptly.

The question took Jurgis aback. "I--I--" he stammered.

"Tell me the truth, now!" commanded the other, sternly.

"Yes, your Honor," said Jurgis.

"How often?"

"Only once, your Honor."

"What for?"

"For knocking down my boss, your Honor. I was working in the stockyards,
and he--"

"I see," said his Honor; "I guess that will do. You ought to stop
drinking if you can't control yourself. Ten days and costs. Next case."

Jurgis gave vent to a cry of dismay, cut off suddenly by the policeman,
who seized him by the collar. He was jerked out of the way, into a room
with the convicted prisoners, where he sat and wept like a child in
his impotent rage. It seemed monstrous to him that policemen and
judges should esteem his word as nothing in comparison with the
bartender's--poor Jurgis could not know that the owner of the saloon
paid five dollars each week to the policeman alone for Sunday privileges
and general favors--nor that the pugilist bartender was one of the
most trusted henchmen of the Democratic leader of the district, and had
helped only a few months before to hustle out a record-breaking vote as
a testimonial to the magistrate, who had been made the target of odious
kid-gloved reformers.

Jurgis was driven out to the Bridewell for the second time. In his
tumbling a