Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 11.pdf/216

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Communications in regard to the contents of the Magazine should be addressed to the Editor, Horace W. Fuller, 344 Tremont Building, Boston, Mass. The Editor will be glad to reeeive eontributions of artieles of moderate length upon subjeets of inter est to the profession; also anything in the way of legal antiquities or euriosities, faeetia', anee dotes, ete. FACETIÆ. Wh1te brought suit in replevin against Brown to recover possession of an aged horse which the former had given the latter to put to death. Brown was to have the money arising from the sale of the carcass. Instead he sold the steed alive and retained the cash. White wanted the animal killed; hence a German justice of the peace of southern Indiana was called into ser vice. After reviewing the evidence, his honor continued : " In dis case de horse vas von gift causa mortees, — dot ist, de horse vas giffen for de cause off tying; it vas a gift in exdremis, — dot ist, it vas de last tink dot von could do mit de horse. But as de horse dit not tie, unt Prown dit not do dot last tink, den dot gift vails, und dis gourt fints for de blaintiff."

"What is your occupation? " the lawyer asked a boy on the witness stand. "I work on my father's farm," the witness replied. "You don't do much but sit around, do you?" "Well, I help my father." "But you're worthless, aren't you?" was the attorney's decisive question. "I don't know whether I am or not," retorted the witness warmly. Then the attorney took another tack. " Your father's a worthless man, isn't he?" "Well, he works about the farm." The attorney here fastened an eye which gleamed with triumph on the jury, and nailed the boy with a glance from the other, and said : "Isn't it true that your father doesn't do enough work to prevent his being called ' worthless '?" The boy had chafed under these unpleasant questions, and summoning his courage, he said loudly : " If you want to know so bad whether

my father's worthless, ask him; there he is, on the jury!" An exchange tells a story of a judge who could not control his temper, and so could not control other people. One day there was an unusual disorder in the court room, and at last the judge could endure it no longer. "It is impossible to allow this persistent con tempt of court to go on," he exclaimed, " and I shall be forced to go to the extreme length of taking the one step that will stop it." There was a long silence, then one of the leading counsel rose, and with just a trace of a smile, inquired, " If it please your honor, from what date will your resignation take effect?" The old practice of badgering witnesses has almost disappeared from many courts, but in some it is still kept up — sometimes, however, to the damage of the cross-examiner. Lawyer S is well known for his uncomely habits. He cuts his hair about four times a year, and the rest of the time looks decidedly ragged about the ears. He was making a witness de scribe a barn which figured in his last case. "How long had the barn been built?" "Oh, I don't know. About a year, mebby. About nine months, p'r'aps." "But just how long? Tell the jury how long it had been built." "Well, I don't know exactly. Quite a while." "Now, Mr. B, you pass for an intelligent farmer, and yet you can't tell me how old this barn is; and you have lived on the next farm for ten years. Can you tell me how old your own barn is? Come, now, tell us how old your own house is, if you think you know." Quick as lightning the old farmer replied : — "Ye want to know how old my house is, do ye? Well, it's just about as old as you be, and needs the roof seeing to about as bad." In the roar that followed the witness stepped down, and Lawyer S didn't call him back. 10.-,