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Editorial Department.
455

There is a grim humor about some of Judge Lynch's executions. A bank president in southwestern Texas made away with all the funds under his charge, and then posted on the door of his institution "Bank Suspended." That night he was interviewed by a number of depositors, who left him hanging to a tree with this notice pinned to his breast, "Bank President Suspended."


In a recent examination before the Supreme Court of Iowa, a student was asked whether the State Legislature of Iowa can pass an act granting a divorce. Having answered in the negative, he was requested to give his reason. He replied, that the Constitution of the United States forbids the State Legislatures from passing any act impairing the obligations of a contract.


In the trial of a case recently, in one of the Middlesex District Courts, a witness was asked to repeat a conversation which she had with her husband. Objection was made, by counsel on the other side, that the question should not be answered because the conversation was private in its nature. The judge then asked the witness whether anybody except herself and husband were present. She replied that her mother and the husband's mother were. Whereupon the judge remarked: "It appears, Mr. B——, that both mothers in-law were present. I shall therefore rule that the conversation was public."


One of the keenest retorts on record was the reply of Archbishop Ryan to ex-Attorney-General Wayne MacVeagh at a banquet given by some of the leading officials of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company.

On presenting Archbishop Ryan to several of the leading officials, Mr. MacVeagh playfully commented on their virtues, advising the Archbishop to cultivate their acquaintance, reminding him of the many conveniences and comforts they could offer him and especially of the free passes within their control. "Indeed," said he, laughingly, "I am not sure that it might not be worth your while to use your influence to get these clients of mine passes to the happier world beyond." Quick as a flash the witty Irishman replied, "Oh, no, I could not think of separating them from their counsel."


A certain lawyer arguing a case before a justice of the peace came across the expression "choses in action" in a decision from which he was quoting to the court. Fearing that the justice might not understand its meaning, he stopped to explain: "Your Honor, 'choses in action,' you of course know, means that a person has several rights of action and can choose which he will pursue."


During a session of the court at ——, Wisconsin, Lawyer Blank had been trying for two long hours to impress upon the minds of the jury the facts of the case. Hearing the dinner-bell ring, he turned to the judge and said: "Had we better adjourn for dinner, or shall I keep right on?"

Weary and disgusted, his Honor replied: "Oh, you keep right on, keep right on, and we will go to dinner."


One summer morning, years ago, a number of young lawyers surrounded Colonel Boyd, of Norristown, Penn., on the porch of the Stockton House at Cape May. When they were about to leave, the good colonel said he did not feel like parting with them without giving them some good ad vice. Said he: "Young men, I have practised law for forty years, and I have found that the best plan to have an easy conscience is to open each week in the proper way. Monday morning I go to my office about half an hour earlier than usual, lock myself in the back-room, and go over the events of the preceding week, so as to see that I have wronged no man. If I find that I have, I make amends at once. If I find on mature consideration that I have charged a client too large a fee, I promptly write him a check and reduce it to the proper amount. You can not too soon adopt such a practice."

"Have you often had occasion, Colonel," innocently asked one of the young men, "to make many such repayments?"

"That is the singular part of it all," promptly replied the good colonel; "I have religiously followed this habit for forty years, and thus far I have never had occasion to do anything of the kind."


A very concise verdict was that of a coroner's jury in Idaho: "We find that the deceased came to his death by calling Tom Watlings a liar."