Just Judges. East gate, and as each bid is forthcoming a boy is started to run to an inn at the other end of the village, and so long as the last boy has not returned, the auctioneer continues to take bids. The last bid which is unchallenged when the last boy returns, is declared to be the rent of the field for the ensuing year, and
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the bidder is the tenant. When the award has been made the company adjourns to the inn and a cheese and onion lunch is provided out of the funds of the field; the balance of the money is used by trustees for the pur chase of white bread, a loaf of which is left at each house in the village of Eastgate.
JUST JUDGES. BY J. EDWARD RICKERT, Of the Philadelphia Bar. Some years ago a most eloquent member of the Philadelphia Bar, then known as " the silvertongued orator," was sitting in one of the Common Pleas court rooms, waiting to argue a case before the court in bane. The hand in which he held his papers was observed to be trembling. "What's the matter?" he was asked. " Aren't you feeling well?" "Never felt more physically fit in my life." he replied. "But every time I am about to stand up before those men in robes I have an attack of nervousness to overcome before I am again at ease." The law it is a fearsome thing to laymen in its toil, An ink-emitting Octopus that doth clear justice roil; And oft the green young counsellor doth stand with stricken tongue Before that image of the law whereon the black gown's hung.
О know ye not, young counsellor, that thrice upon a day That awesome presence eats its meals like unto us, they say? О know ye not, young counsellor, it may sleep on its back And, like to us, the quiet night with raucous music rack?
It had a mother, sir, like you;—was once a prattling child, And tore its pants and skinned its nose and wailed in accents wild; It, too, passed through that gray ague when, wishing it were far, It rose upon its weak hind-legs before that selfsame bar.
Though sodden deep with legal lore, no man may know it all; Haply the court you may trip up and give a rousing fall. The crow that seems immersed in thought may say no more than "Fudge!" Remember, sir, the justest judge is only just a judge.
