Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 18.pdf/466

 THE LIGHTER SIDE looking, and as he entered the room his Honor queried : "Jim, which end of the cow gets up first?" "The hinder end, sir." "And a horse?" "The fronter end." "All right. This drummer has given Joe Harris a black eye and wants a lawyer to prove that Joe ran ag'in the door casing and blacked it himself. I'll app'int you as his counsel." "But I'm no lawyer." "But you've got common sense, as you've just proved, and that's better yet. Go right ahead." Jim went ahead, and in ten minutes he had the other side so tangled up that his Honor laid his spectacles aside and said: "No use to go any further. There may have been a row, and probably there was a row, but Jim is getting ready to prove that the landlord was out in the barn and the drummer across the street, and there's no use taking up the time of this court. I'll divide the costs, and the parties had better shake hands, while, as for Jim Peters, he's a rising star that will continue to rise until it won't be considered no crime around here to jump another man's claim." — Fargo Forum.

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In God we trust. He may forgive our errors And count to our merits our watch of truth. Shake hands, my friends — colleagues of fray and combat. Blacked veil, the fates; and curtains sable cover their mirrors, But dim visions still we snatch of mysteries unclouded. We may — may not, meet in this world again; If meet we do, let's meet as men with con science free and heads erect, And not in fear of judge or jury in the world of heaven. Limit to his Jurisdiction. — Judge John son, a retired judge of the District Court at Blackstone, was elected selectman of the town. The town appropriated money each year for concreting a certain amount of side walks, the abutters to pay half the cost of the work. One day the judge became involved in an argument with one of the abutters, and losing his temper, told him to "go to h—1." "Say, judge, ain't you going out of your jurisdiction? I thought Worcester was as far as you could send any one," the abutter replied. — Boston Herald.

Poetic Justice. — The validity of a will of an estate involving several hundred thousand dollars was submitted to a Federal jury in Boston not long since, and after a long trial a disagreement was reported. One juror had stood out. There was no doubt that it was a case of conscience, for he prayed in the jury-room for divine assistance, but his German mind was unalterably fixed. Some light on the occurrence may be shed by the following verses composed by him to give vent to his feelings. He called them " The Swan Song of the Jury " :

Golf Suits. — While playing golf an Edin burgh gentleman was struck on the head by a ball driven by a perfect stranger. Having recovered, and lost sight of the million or so stars which appeared before him at the moment, he haled the furious driver before the sheriff. The latter, however, dismissed the action. As far as we can see, the sufferer's only remedy is to wait till the other is holing out just in front of him, and then, with a cheery cry of " Fore! " pick him off. Little differences like this should be adjusted on the links, not in the law courts. — London Globe.

Our task is done — We chiselled our names (in frailty of natural men with good intentions) Upon the fortunes of warm beating hearts; We blighted hopes, we crippled desire. From slough we raised despair to faith in jus tice.

Fined the Dead Man. — The judge's deci sion in a case settled a few years ago in Millinocket, Me., probably will not serve as a precedent, but no exception to it was reported. An Italian laborer was killed while at work on a dam at the pulp mills. At the hearing