MAGISTRATE. [Returning to his seat beneath the canopy of justice.]
Now, let me see. You say the mother is on the streets; what
evidence have you of that?
RELIEVING OFFICER. I have the husband here, your Worship.
MAGISTRATE. Very well; then let us see him.
[There are cries of "LIVENS." The MAGISTRATE leans forward,
and stares with hard compassion at the little girls. LIVENS
comes in. He is quiet, with grizzled hair, and a muffler for a
collar. He stands beside the witness-box.]
And you, are their father? Now, why don't you keep your little
girls at home. How is it you leave them to wander about the streets
like this?
LIVENS. I've got no home, your Worship. I'm living from 'and to
mouth. I 've got no work; and nothin' to keep them on.
MAGISTRATE. How is that?
LIVENS. [Ashamedly.] My wife, she broke my 'ome up, and pawned the
things.
MAGISTRATE. But what made you let her?
LEVINS. Your Worship, I'd no chance to stop 'er, she did it when I
was out lookin' for work.
MAGISTRATE. Did you ill-treat her?
LIVENS. [Emphatically.] I never raised my 'and to her in my life,
your Worship.
MAGISTRATE. Then what was it--did she drink?
LIVENS.
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