"Let us proceed." "Well, Mrs.Fitzpatrick," said the counsel for the Crown, "will you kindly look at the prisoner ?" Mrs.Fitzpatrick turned square about and let her eyes rest upon the prisoner's pale face.
"I will that," said she, "an' there's many another I'd like to see in his place." "Do you know him ?" "I do that.

An' a finer gintleman I niver saw, savin' Yer 'Anner's prisence," bowing to the judge.
"Oh, indeed! A fine gentleman?
And how do you know that, Mrs.Fitzpatrick ?" "How do I know a gintleman, is it?
Sure, it's by the way he trates a lady." "Ah," said the lawyer with a most courteous bow, "that is a most excellent test.

And what do you know of this--ah--this gentleman's manners with ladies ?" "An' don't I know how he trates mesilf?
He's not wan to fergit a lady's name, you may lay to that." "Oh, indeed, he has treated you in a gentlemanly manner ?" "He has." "And do you think this is his usual manner with ladies ?" "I do," said Mrs.Fitzpatrick with great emphasis.

"A gintleman, a rale gintleman, is the same to a lady wheriver he mates her, an' the same to ladies whativer they be." "Mrs.Fitzpatrick," said Mr.Staunton, "you have evidently a most excellent taste in gentlemen." "I have that same," she replied.

"An' I know thim that are no gintlemen," she continued with meaning emphasis, "whativer their clothes may be." A titter ran through the court room.
"Silence in the court!" shouted the crier.
"Now, Mrs.Fitzpatrick," proceeded Mr.Staunton, taking a firmer tone, "you say the prisoner is a gentleman." "I do.