After this the young mother 'swears' her child; and, indeed, there is some very hard swearing here on both sides.

A wrangle between two women--neighbours--who accuse each other of assault, and scream and chatter their loudest, comes next.
Before they decide it, the Bench retire, and are absent a long time.
By degrees a buzz arises, till the justice-room is as noisy as a market.
Suddenly the door of the private room opens, and the Clerk comes out; instantly the buzz subsides, and in the silence those who are nearest catch something about the odds and the St.Leger, and an anything but magisterial roar of laughter.

The chairman appears, rigidly compressing his features, and begins to deliver his sentence before he can sit down, but the solemn effect is much marred by the passing of a steam ploughing engine.

The audience, too, tend away towards the windows to see whose engine it is.
'Silence!' cries the Clerk, who has himself been looking out of window; the shuffling of feet ceases, and it is found that after this long consultation the Bench have dismissed both charges.

The next case on the list is poaching; and at the call of his name one of the gipsy-looking men advances, and is ordered to stand before that part of the table which by consent represents the bar.
'Oby Bottleton,' says the Clerk, half reading, half extemporizing, and shuffling his papers to conceal certain slips of technicality; 'you are charged with trespassing in pursuit of game at Essant Hill--that you did use a wire on the estate--on land in the occupation of Johnson.'-- 'It's a lie!' cries a good-looking, dark-complexioned woman, who has come up behind the defendant (the whilome navvy), and carries a child so wrapped in a shawl as to be invisible.