Page:Caroline Lockhart--The full of the Moon.djvu/241

 from mugs of beer of amazing size in the highly colored lithographs on the wall. A spangled fan hid an unsightly stove-pipe hole. The spiders had woven their webs between the yellowing curtains of coarse lace at the dingy, fly-specked windows, and the floor was littered with the tarnished gilt which had dropped in chunks from the gaudy molding.

The judge with deliberate movement took his seat in a faded plush chair upon the raised platform where the orchestra of the dance-hall had twanged its wild music.

A plank across two stout whisky-barrels, made a satisfactory desk and, what with a short ax-handle for a gavel, a pitcher and glass, together with the armful of imposing volumes which the judge laid upon it, the furnishings, though novel, seemed complete.

The judge sniffed as he sat down. He looked at the whisky-barrels—they had long been empty; then he reached for the pitcher and regarded its contents long and steadfastly before he applied its side to his lips.

"Ah-h-h!" It was not known in Hopedale that the judge derived such satisfaction from a cooling drink of water.