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 The Jury System.

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THE JURY SYSTEM. A LAYMAN'S POINT OF VIEW.

ONE day I received a jury notice. I laid it on my desk and regarded it with suspicion. It seemed to be genuine, and as nearly as I could gather, I was in structed to appear on a certain Monday morning in the Court of Something or Other, part three, and await developments. I had been bred in the belief that a well-regulated man avoided association with the law and its meshes as he would the wiles of Satan. I had never been in a court room in my life, and I had a most unreasonable dislike to breaking my record. I had also that rooted aversion, characteristic of, the patriotic American, to serving my country in the capacity of juror. The summons, therefore, filled me with terror. I had heard of men who had been called to jury duty, but who had " arranged " not to serve, so I cast about in my mind for someone whose influ ence might help me to this desirable result. I called on all sorts and conditions of men in official positions, and most of them laughed at me and said, " Old chap, serves you right; you are the sort of man we want on our juries; go ahead and serve." One good friend of mine took high moral grounds; said it was my duty to serve; said it was a disgrace that decent class men were so reluctant to aid the administration of law. I thought it over with fasting and prayer, and I began to feel myself becoming public spirited. I decided that I would brave the terrors of the law, and do my duty as best I could in that sphere to which it had pleased the all-powerful Commis sioner of Jurors to call me. I commenced preparation by reading all the court pro ceedings I could find in the papers. It did not seem to me that the jurors were always treated with politeness by the lawyers or the Court, but that was a mere detail; one must

not expect the path of duty to be entirely strewn with roses. I am bound to say right here that, later, my expectations in this direction were entirely realized. Monday came; it's a way Mondays have, and I repaired to the Court House. I was nervous, but firm. I had heard much of the majesty of the Law (with a capital L), and I felt that my first appearance in the halls of Justice was an occasion of import ance. I entered the court room; there were a great many people there, and they were all talking. The scene was not as impressive as I expected. I sat down nearthe door and looked about; everyone seemed to be very busy, and the noise waxed louder. There were a lot of men with bundles of papers in their hands, talk ing to a lot of other men similarly burdened, and they seemed to be making or unmaking dates, and trying to induce each other to lay something over because they wanted to go duck shooting, or a witness had married a wife and must be excused, or their client was dead, or something of that sort. As I gained courage, I moved down inside a rail and took a chair more in the midst of things. I regarded the jury box, with its twelve chairs, with awe. A motley crew now be gan to collect. I had forgotten that there would of necessity be other jurors than my self, but now I suddenly realized that these others were bidden like myself to the proud service of their country. Most of them did not look pleased, but neither did they look anything else, so that was all right. After a little I began to yearn for sympathy, and I looked over the men near me for one who might be approachable. I selected the cleanest, and took a chair beside him. "Are you a juror?" I asked. "Yes!" he answered explosively. He was a very pos