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The Green Bag

A New York publisher, having business at the Capitol connected with pending legisla tion with reference to international copy rights, was hurrying through a corridor of the building when he encountered a "Hop o' my Thumb," scurrying along with an armful of papers larger than himself. Hello, son!" cried the publisher. "And what may be your position in this establish ment." "I'm a page, sir," answered the lad. "A page! Why, my boy, you're scarcely large enough for a paragraph I —Lippincott's. Several decades ago there lived in Charles ton, W. Va., a judge noted for his boorish manners. A very finical lawyer whom he especially disliked was once trying a case before him and all the while the barrister spoke the judge sat with his feet elevated on the railing in front of him, hiding his face. Exasperated by this the lawyer queried: "May I ask which end of your Honor I am to address?" "Whichever you choose," drawled the Judge. "Well," was the retort, "I suppose there is as much law in one end as the other." —Philadelphia Public Ledger. An earnest plea was made by Attorney Charles Pettijonn to Judge Pritchard of the criminal court for leniency to a client who had entered a plea of guilty to larceny. The burden of the attorney's argument was that his client was the father of twins and was tempted to theft in order to feed the mouths of the infants. "Your Honor, I will say frankly, " said Mr. Pettijohn in closing, "that if I were the father of twins and needed food for my family I would not hesitate to go and steal it." "Mr. Pettijohn, when you are the father of twins I will consider your proposition," said Judge Pritchard.—Indianapolis News. The jury had filed into court and returned a verdict of not guilty, although the counsel for the prisoner was not present. It was a clear case, the man's guilt was perfectly appar ent, and the judge looked up somewhat sur prised, leaned over and conferred with the clerk, who later informed the defendant that he was discharged. Counsel for the prisoner then appeared, learned of the apparent sur prise of the Court at the action of the jury, and had something of an argument with the

Court, which" was conducted, however, in a whisper. "Mein Gott!" exclaimed a little Dutchman who stood outside the door. "That lawyer has von his case, and now he's going to lick the judge!"— Boston Record. The newspapers recently told the story of a bad small boy, who had come up before the juvenile court charged with incorrigibility. A number of little girls had been called in to testify, and while the lawyers were arguing the case before the probation officer the judge took them into his private office. "Now, little girls," he said, gravely, "most of you came here in behalf of the defendant. I have written my decision on a slip of paper. I want you each to take one of these slips of paper, and write on it your opinion as to what the punishment should be—a good whip ping by his mother, or several long years in the house of correction." The judge left the amateur jury to their deliberations for a few moments, and returned to find that they all favored the thrashing. "That is exactly what I had written," he said, triumphantly. "The jury is dismissed." The sentence was carried out on the back porch immediately.— Youth's Companion. On a recent jury day in the First District Court a stolid-looking German presented to Justice Joseph a certificate from the Com missioner of Jurors. After a rapid glance at the document the Justice ordered the man to raise his right hand and administered the oath. "Your name is Herman Kaufman?" "Yes, your Honor." "This paper," continued the court, "re quests me to excuse Herman Kaufman from jury duty on the ground that he is dead. Now, remember that you have sworn to tell the truth, and think well before you answer: Are you dead?" "No-o, your Honor," was the bewildered reply, "I don't think I am." "You claim that you are alive?" "Y-e-s, your Honor." "That will do. Now take this paper back to the Commissioners of Jurors." The man did so. When the Commissioner examined the certificate it bore the following indorsement in the Justice's handwriting: "The deceased, appearing before me in open court, insists, under oath, that he is not dead. Please investigate, and, if his testimony be false, have him indicted for perjury."

The Editor will be glad to receive for this department anything likely to entertain the readers of the Green Bag in the way of legal antiquities, facetia, and anecdotes.