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 Sonic Missouri " Yarns." able and now venerable trial lawyer, began practice together in the same county-seat more than half a century ago, and continued there until the death of the judge not long since. They were never partners, but the respect and confidence they always bore each other was beautiful to behold. The judge was on the circuit bench of the State proba bly a greater number of years than any other judge, and had many little idiosyncrasies that were innocent yet amusing. One was a habit which he had when holding court in his home town of never opening court in the morning unless Colonel G, who resided on a farm and was sometimes a few minutes late, was in the court-room. The judge would ascend the bench, take his seat, look over the room for his old friend, and if he were absent would say, — "Mr. -G is not in; Mr. Sheriff, call Mr. G ." Nothing more would be done until Colonel G , who was generally near enough to hear the sheriff's call, came puffing into the room, as though in great haste; when the judge would say, — "Open court, Mr. Sheriff; Mr. G is now present. A gentleman who is now General Super intendent of a great railroad running out of the Columbian World's Fair city, began life by trying to practise law in a Missouri vil lage. One of his first cases was before his father, who was a justice of the peace. After a stormy wrangle between the young attorney and his adversary, the old gentle man decided the case against his son's client. The young man gave vent to some expres sions of indignation, gathered up his books, and started to leave the room. His father pushed his specs on to his forehead, and began mildly to lecture him, saying, — "Young man, do you expect to make your living practising law?" The son, who had by this time reached the door, shouted back, as he retired from the field,—

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"Not before such a d d fool court as this." He abandoned the law, and engaged in railroading with great success. At the close of the war Judge C was still on the bench in a north Missouri circuit. H , who had been a quartermaster in the United States army during the war, and who possessed no legal learning whatever, only a slight education, but an immense surplus of "gall," located in a little backwoods countyseat in Judge C 's circuit, and essayed to make a living without labor, as he had done during his four years as quartermaster. Some one entrusted a note to him to collect by suit, and he managed to get a sort of peti tion filed and summons served; but before court convened the defendant died. The case was called by Judge C on the first day's docket, and H managed to make it known to the court that the defendant was dead. "What do you want done with the case, Mr. H ?" said the court. H was nonplussed, but after standing for a moment, his " cheek " came to his aid. "Your honor," said he, " I will take an order of publication." "Well, Mr. H ," said Judge C, in his wiry-edged voice, " can you name a paper that circulates where the defendant has gone?" A ripple of laughter passed over the court room at H 's expense, and during the con fusion a bright but then struggling young lawyer, now general counsel to one of the largest railway systems in the world, sug gested to him to get the case revived against the estate of the deceased defendant, which was accordingly done. A probate judge in C County, Missouri, a Scotchman and full of Scotch wit and re sources, was one day greatly annoyed by a pettifogger of the most virulent type, who was trying a case before him and a jury, asking witnesses incompetent questions, and