OLD WOMEN—THE PLAGUES OF THE POLICE.

THERE is no more formidable person than a spiteful old woman at a police office, if she chooses • and it is probably an inward feeling of

their power and invulnerability, that has always made them so dis- liked, and yet so feared, on the part of the ignorant and lowly. This used to give a high gusto to the drowning and burning of witches : the delight of the populace in these exhibitions is only explicable on the ground of their being delivered from an antagonist with whom there is no means of contending. For what can you do with a plaguy old woman ? She is of the nettle tribe—a walking Nell me tangere ;

she is acrid from the condensation of the humours; she has outlived her beauty, even her womanhood—and is almost exempt from the

wants of humanity ; for she rarely eats—indeed, the means of mas- tication are wanting : but she drinks—here is her failing, and her source of mischief. She is nearly independent of raiment : the day of fashion is long past—and patches are substituted for finery, rather in fear of acts of Parliament than the weather,—for cold never touches her : her hide is of leather—Russia leather or mo- rocco—corrugated—tanned. The damps penetrate, it is true, and establish a chronic rheumatism, which, like rust on hinges of an- cient doors, makes the joints creak vilely, but seems to act as a preservative against the edaa, rerum, and instead of letting down the machine, only lends acrimony to all its movements. An old woman's wheels are kept going by vinegar, a young woman's by oil. How can you punish one of these mischievous old women? it is impossible: she is protected by pity, and by the bluntness of her own feelings, and the impossibility of disposing of her. Who could beat an old woman? it would be like fisticuffing a bunch of keys, or horsewhipping a parchment bag of bones. No one could place her zig-zag limbs on the tread- mill : to see her shrivelled angularities sticking upon the wheels of that machine for the exercising of flesh and blood, would be a spectacle intolerable to humanity. Transportation is also out of the question : she is not worth the money ; neither would she be of any use in any land, except that Epicurean one in which they eat their grandmothers. What sauce these luxurious people have discovered, we know not; but it must far surpass the King of °TIDE'S, and is doubtless a secret worth knowing. Who would hang an old woman—more especially now, that criminals are gibbeted? A very old woman, like SARAH STOKES mentioned be: low, would in case she were hung up, ladibrium venti.y, depopu- late the most fertile neighbourhoods—nay, produce a strike in all Manchester itself—were justice so ruthless as to exhibit her im- mortal remains in its vicinity—" the cynosure of neighbouring eyes."

Old women, we see from the police reports are the dread and scourge of constables, and puzzle their worships, the Magis- trates, even more than the thirty thousands of the frail sisterhood. We have lately read of a sort of Cerberus old woman, who is the terror of her neighbourhood,- the autocrat of Aldgate and Whitechapel—the pensioner of four parishes, and yet receiving her contributions, as a monarch takes his civil list, that is with a kick of condescension. To be below all law, is the same thing as being above it. " Wild in streets the wrinkled savage runs' in the midst of civilization : on the mere strength of age and rheu- matism and a biting tongue, she indulges in all the wilfulness of nature. In ancient times, a short way would have been found for her—a stake or stream would have relieved her oppressed neigh hours ; but modern humanity lets her loose to prey on her kind —the hymna of the East—of London. It will be necessary in a Reformed Parliament to take into con- sideration the Law of Old Women. If the great BENTHAM had not departed, alas ! too soon, we might have hoped from his all- embracing mind, a good tough Old Woman "Codification Pro- posal." But he is gone, and we shall be driven to consult the Twelve Judges. The infants puzzle the administrators of City Jaw - very seriously, but they are not a fiftieth part so dangerous as the other childhood.

. That cases of thissort are by no means free from difficulty, we beg to exemplify by the following extract from the Times; which we have preserved as a . greatzurinsity, . not only in illustration . of

the power of old women, but likewise as a specimen of the Eler- quence of the Low. DemosmaNes himself could not have put some of the commonplaces of rhetoric with more force than SARA.H STOKES, the untutored and uncultivated pauper—strong only in her double-distilled rheum, acrimonious as juice of euphorbium.

THE INTRACTABILITY OF AN OLD WOMAN.

MANSIONIIOUSE.—A female pauper, nearly sixty years of age, named Sarah Stokes, was charged before Sir Chapman Marshall with having frequently in- sulted Kinnersley, the Beadle of Aldgate, and threatened to beat him. She had contrived to get about 30s. a week by her facility of telling lies, and was at last detected and punished, just after having levied contributions upon four parishes.

Kinnersley stated, that the defendant, after having collected a mob about his house let fly a volley of the grossest abuse against him and his funily, and fol- lowed him about, swearing that she would do for him and all who belonged to. him. Upon one occasion he had given her a loaf of bread; but she threw it at his windows; and, indeed, take her for all in all, he never had seen, even in Aldgate, so outrageous a person. As she was a woman remarkable for keeping her word when she promised to beat any body, and as she was well able to fight, he apprehended serious injury from her.

The defendant, in a very mild manner, assured the Alderman that she had used no threat towards the Beadle ; but she had found it necessary to say some- . thing to his son, who had struck her and dragged her along the street for no- offence. For the sake of the public, she thought it would he proper to chastise - such a fellow, and she had accordingly given him notice of a right good topper.

Sir C. Marshall—" Oh, then, you meant to punish him ?"

Defendant—" I did, s'elp me G—d, your Worship ; and as sure as I'm poor, but honest, I'll pitch it into him the first opportunity."

The Beadle of an adjoining. parish said, that Mrs. Stokes was the terror of that part of the city. No matter how kindly she was treated, her fancy lay in abus- ing and beating people ; and it was all the same to her whether she bad to fight with man or woman. She bad, at the same time, a strong fancy for gin, which- she drank when she could get it, until it stretched her in the mud; and on Monday last she was dragged out of the puddle to the watchhouse.

Defendant—" It's all true about the gin. I was 'mops and brooms' Sunday, sure enough; but that's no reason I'm to be keelhauled and floored like a bullock agoing to be slaughtered. Blessed if I don't give it your son, Kinnersley, for that ere whopping. Ill fetch him a right down jolly good topper."

Kinnersley said he had no doubt of the woman's intention.

Defendant—" Ay, and I'm blessed if I don't make you sing out, too, if I catch vou, some day. I have a long score against you, you hard-warted old willan. . give it you where you cupboard your grub—blessed if I don't, and no mistake." - Sir Chapman Marshall said, that the defendant's conduct at that moment con- firmed the truth of the beadle's statement.

Defendant—" Oh, please your worship, I don't say I'll pitch it into Mr. Kinnersley—I only say I'll fetch his sou a wipe or two, for serving out my body just as if it was a bullock's."

Sir C. Marshall—"Kinnersley, do you swear that you are in fear of this woman ? "

Kinnersley—" Certainly I do, Sir. She is most ferocious."

Defendant—" Afeard of inc? Afeard of a poor old woman's tongue ?' There's a dung-cock for you. Well, I'm bloored if you a'nt a fellow of spirit.. - Why, I say, my master, blessed if I'd lower myself by raising my hand to you, for what are you a'ter all, but a poor insignificant old rascal of a beadle 1" Sir C. Marshall—" You must procure bail. You are a most incorrigible woman—your whole conduct here proves it."

Defendant—" Bail ! me find bail. Blowed if I find bail. I don't care how long you stow me in the crib. And I'll tell you what, Kinnersley, keep your body up till I comes out, and then we'll see which is the best man, you or me;. for I'm blessed if I don't pitch it into you, in your wittling apartment, and no, mistake."

Mrs. Stokes was then conveyed to the Compter in default of bail.— Times.