ROEBUCK versus CLANCEY.

Mr. Timothy Clancey, landlord of the Robin Hood public-house in Holborn, appeared before Thomas Halls, Esq., to answer the complaint of Mrs. Penelope Roebuck; a fine, bouncing, well-dressed dame, fat, fair, and forty. She had her left eye in deep mourning; and he had as many black patches on his face as the renowned Munchausen.

"May it please your worship," said Mrs. Penelope Roebuck, wiping her comely cheeks and bruised eye with a lavender-scented cambric handkerchief—"May it please your worship, I am Mrs. Roebuck, the wife of Mr. Roebuck, of Somers Town; and yesterday I walked all the way from Chelsea, which very much fatigued me, as your worship may suppose; and being fatigued, I went into Mr. Clancey's, for I had always understood Mr. Clancey to be a mighty nice sort of a man. 'And pray, Mr. Clancey,' said I, 'would you have the goodness to make me sixpenn'orth of brandy and water, warm, with a little sugar in it?' 'No, mem,' said he, 'it is not in my power to make sixpenn'orth of brandy and water—the dooties are so high; but you may have eightpenn'orth. 'Very well,' says I, 'it's quite himmyterul; make me eightpenn'orth.' With that, your worship, he made me a very nice glass of brandy and water, and I sat myself down to take it by little and little; for I'm not a person what's given to take my liquor by lumps; but I had scarcely wetted my lips, when he took a very improper liberty—such a liberty, your worship, as I suffers no man to take with me, be he whomsoever he may; and, 'Mr. Clancey,' says I, 'I shouldn't have thought of it from such a fellur as you.' I might have said something else, your worship, but that's neither here nor there; Mr. Clancey, without saying another word, good, bad, nor indifferent, had the goodness to come out of his bar, and, turning my two hands behind my back, he conducted me out of the house, and had the goodness to fling me down on the hard pavement!—by which purlite behaviour my eye was blacked, as you see, and my dress, worth at least five pounds, completely remollished.

Mr. Timothy Clancey, mine host of the Robin Hood, in his defence, said, Mrs. Roebuck, whilst drinking her brandy and water, abused his wife so grossly, that he firmly, but civilly, desired her to leave the house; but he had no sooner done so, than she flung the goblet, she was drinking from, in his face. The goblet struck him full on the nose, by which it was shivered to pieces, and his nose and face sadly cut. In proof of these premises, he produced the broken goblet, and pointed to the black silk patches, which almost covered his countenance. "I then, and not till then," said he, "laid hands upon Mrs. Roebuck, and thrust her out of my house—and that, I assure your worship, was the only liberty I took with her."

Mrs. Roebuck did not attempt to rebut this statement, and the warrant was discharged.