law?" Recorder: "You must not think that I am able to run up so many years, and over so many adjudged cases, which we call the common law, to answer your curiosity." Penn: "This answer I am sure is very short of my question, for if it be common it should not be so hard to produce." . . . Record er: "If I should suffer you to ask questions till tomorrow morning you would never be the wiser." Penn: "That is according as the answers are." Penn was finally haled to the bale-dock—"a stinking hole"—and the re corder charged the jury in his absence.
Then began the efforts to force a conviction. "We shall have a verdict by the help of God, or you shall starve for it," the Recorder told the jury. But they finally agreed upon an acquittal, whereupon they were fined and im prisoned. Puishel, one of the jurors, was im mediately discharged by the Court of Com mon Pleas on a writ of habeas corpus, and the memorable judgment pronounced on this oc casion by Chief Justice Yaughan put an end to the fining of jurors for their verdicts, and vindicated their independence as judges of fact (6 St. Tr. 999).
THE UNPROFITABLE CLIENT. Hv J. EDWARD RICKERT. Of the Philadelphia Bar. He grasps you by the buttonhole and will not let you go: "I say, old man, what should one do if the case were thus and so?" He smiles a bland, untroubled smile—you grin a grin of ice, The while he picks your pockets of a twenty (in advice). You dine unwittingly with him; between the soup and roast He pins you tight to Bills and Notes, this genial private host. In vain you wriggle and you squirm, to get to t.-olf or horse, You've simply got to pay your way through every blooming course.
