nuptial contract, for a woman's separate estate, played a prominent part. John S.
Rhea is a fine lawyer and member of Con gress.
IN AND AROUND THE SUPREME COURT. WHEN you step from the corridor of the Capitol into the precincts con trolled by the marshal of the Supreme Court, you feel at once that you have passed from an atmosphere in which everyone is trying to change something into one in which conservatism is the ruling motive. And speaking of conservatism, let me tell at once a story which properly belongs further on : " In the vestibule to the confer ence room there has stood for many years a shabby old washstand, equipped with a plain china toilet service and a useful but not very sightly bucket for waste water. Last year a modern bath-room with every possible luxury of tiling and silver-plating and pa tent shower-baths was added to the suite of rooms in which the court holds its Saturday morning consultations. As this new toilet room is hardly a dozen steps away from the old washstand, the marshal's assistant natur ally thought the latter could be dispensed with, but out of wisdom acquired through experience she prudently had it stored not far away. When court met, most of the justices sought out the new improvements and commended their beauty and conven ience, but one of the elder ones walked di rectly to the site of the old washstand, and remarked sternly, ' I should like to know who has removed that washstand.' "As the session was about to begin, his investigations were not pursued, and when the morning's work was over, he found the old stand, with its homely fittings and shabby bucket, in its accustomed place. Regularly every Saturday morning he washes his hands in cold water from the china pitcher, ignoring the luxurious silverplated spigots in which his colleagues find comfort."
The Supreme Court is not only more con servative than any other institution of our government, it is also more ceremonious. In planning our legislative processes the builders of the Republic dared to be origi nal, but fashioning the highest court of a na tion destined to be great was another mat ter. Ceremony there must be; so, upon a modification of English judicial etiquette as a basis, there has been gradually reared a system formal enough to command respect, yet sufficiently simple to be in keeping with the other departments of the government. Take, for instance, the opening of court in the morning. At twelve o'clock exactly a rope is stretched across the corridor which divides the robing room from the court room. Marshal Wright steps across the corridor, and opening the robing room door, shakes hands with the chief justice. The routine is never varied, though the two gentlemen may have ridden to the Capitol in the same horsecar, and parted only ten minutes before. The marshal leads the way across the corridor and through the hall way to the rear entrance to the court room, the associate justices following the chief justice in the order of their appointment. The decorous procession files through the door in the middle of the red plush drapery back of the bench, the marshal takes his seat at one end, the nine rustling black silk gowns settle into the nine big leather-cov ered chairs, and the crier announces that court is opened. The court room, as nearly every one knows, is the one used as the Senate Cham ber before the great wings were added to the Capitol. For every square foot of floor space there is at least one interesting histor ical association, and to see the place at its
