hearing a great commotion stopped to listen. Then he called the judge, who had first an ear and then an eye to the key -hole. The tableau which presented itself should be engraved and hung in every courtroom where jury trials obtain.
In the middle of the room was a table on which stood a demijohn of whisky, a pail of water, and half a dozen glasses. There was much condensed comfort in the demijohn, as was evident from the attitude of the already hilarious twelve, who were marching in single file round the table. First was a man with a huge base drum upon his back, followed by the foreman pounding it with all his might. The third was a snare-drummer, and the fourth a juror with a shrill whistle in imitation of -a fife. The rest were sino-ins!'.
Suddenly the sheriff opened the door and the officials stood before them.
"Hello, judge," hiccuped the foreman. "We couldn't agree nohow, so we thought we would put in the time social like s' long as we were a congenial company."
William Blackburn was an alcalde at Santa Cruz in 1847 and 1848. As an illustration of his unique decisions, the story is told of a native Californian who quarreled with a countryman, and being defeated in the contest, revenged himself by shaving the mane of his antagonist's horse. The case was brought before the judge for trial; the horse was present as a convincing witness, and a crowd thronged the courthouse with curiosity to hear the judge's decision. After a deliberate examination of the witnesses, the malicious Californian was sentenced to receive punishment in conformity with holy writ, which demanded an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. " Lead out the prisoner and let his mane be shaved in like manner as he served the horse," was the sentence, and its immediate execution afforded intense amusement
