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Daniel Grummer

Grummer: the arresting Officer of Pickwick and Tupman

“Very well” said the magistrate “these are two cut throats from London who have come down here to destroy his majesty’s population thinking that at this distance from the capital, the arm of the law is weak and paralysed. They shall be made an example of. Draw up the warrants Mr. Jinks. Muzzle!”

“Yes your worship?”

“Is Grummer downstairs?”

“Yes your worship.”

“Send him up!”

Thus Grummer was summoned before George Nupkins, the mayor of Ipswich.

“Grummer” said the magistrate.

“Yes, your washup?”

“Is the town quiet now?”

“Pretty well, your washup,” said Grummer.

Grummer had had a bad day so far with school children throwing rotten fruit at him, jeering and causing mayhem. He had eventually dispersed them and they had gone off to play cricket.

“Nothing but vigorous measure will do in these times, Grummer.” Said the magistrate, in a determined manner. “Is that not so Mr. Jinks?”

“Certainly sir,” said Jinks.

“Very good said the magistrate,” signing the warrants. “Grummer, you will bring these persons before me this afternoon. You will find them at the Great White Horse. You will recollect the case of the Middlesex Dumpling and the Suffolk bantams, Grummer?”

Mr. Grummer intimated by a retrospective shake of his head.

“This is even more constitutional,” said the magistrate. “This is even a greater breach of the peace and a grosser infringement of his majesty’s prerogative; I believe dueling is one of his majesty’s undoubted prerogatives Mr. Jinks.”

“Expressly stated in the Magna Carta, sir” said Jinks.

“.Grummer, procure assistance and execute these warrants with as little delay as possible.”

Thus, Daniel Grummer, a constable for 50 years, set off with his squad of specials to execute the most high profile arrest of his career. He was out to apprehend the leader of The Pickwick Club, none other than Samuel Pickwick, esquire.

Mr. Pickwick and Tupman were about to relate their recent adventures when the door opened and a somewhat forbidding countenance peered around the door. Slowly, it came into the room and presented the form of an elderly individual in top boots.

“This is a private room,” said Snodgrass.

“No room is private to his majesty when the street door is crossed, that’s law” said Grummer. “Which is Tupman?”

“My name is Tupman,” said the gentleman.

“My name is law,” said Grummer “Law, civil power and executive. Them’s my titles. Here’s my authority. I apprehend you, Pickwick and Tupman.”