THE late Judge Junkin of Perry County, Pennsylvania, who presided over one of the courts of that district, was a man possessed of high legal attainments and in addition thereto, had a brain full of hard common sense. Upon one occasion he was consider ing an application for a license to sell liquor to which objection had been filed on the ground that the applicant was unfit to con duct a hotel, for the reason that he drank a barrel of whiskey a year. In rendering his decision the Judge used these words: "One day last winter this Court had occasion to drive from Berlin to New Bloomfield. The day was intensely cold and as evening drew on it grew colder. About seven o'clock we reached a small tav ern on the mountain and concluded to remain there all night. The landlord met us at the door, and with hearty greetings, ushered us into a most delightfully cheerful sitting room, where a ruddy fire was glowing, which shed its warmth into every corner of the room. Our horse was taken charge of by a stable boy, and in an incredibly short time we were conducted to the dining room, where we found a table with snowy cloth and napkins, and sat down to a supper of chickens and waffles, the memory of which lingers with us yet. We spent the night between two feather beds, while warmth and ruddy light glowed from a bed of coals in an old-fashioned Franklin stove. Next morning we took a hurried survey of the premises and found everything about them in the neatest order, while cleanliness in every detail was a marked characteristic of everything about the place. That hotel was kept by the man who is now the petitioner in this application for license. The only objection urged against him is the fact that he drinks a barrel of whiskey a year. Let us consider this a little. "The average whiskey barrel contains about forty gallons and we take it that the size of the average Perry County drink is about half a gill. In order, therefore, to con sume a barrel of whiskey in a year a man would have to take about seven drinks a day. This would mean an 'eye-opener' in the
morning upon rising, a 'phlegm cutter' be fore breakfast, a 'back-bone stiffner' about ten o'clock, an 'appetizer' before dinner, an other before supper, a 'hot toddy' along in the evening and a 'night cap' before retiring. We do not think this amount of good whis key would hurt any man. The license is granted." MAGISTRATE—"Rastus, I see you are here again. I believe you have been tried and convicted seven times for stealing." Rastus—"Yes, jedge, it seems to be nuffin' but trials and temptations wid me in dis life." JIM HAZEL was a thrifty farmer, but an exceedingly cautious man. He hauled hay to Marshall, Saline county, his nearest market, on Saturdays, and sometimes let his wagon stand on the "square" while he went around making purchases for the house. There was a piratical cow roaming around town at her own unfettered will- and she soon became acquainted with Jim's habits and knew it was dinner time when he came to town. Jim had "shooed" her away from his hay wagon until he got tired, and at last he sought legal advice. Judge Samuel Davis of the isth Circuit Bench—then a practising attorney—was the recipient of Jim's tale of woe. "Colonel Davis," he said, "if you drove to town every Saturday afternoon with a little jag of hay, and an old speckled cow come around and eat up the hay while you was buying molasses and things at the store what would you do to that cow?" "Shoot her," said Davis, promptly. "Hey?" "You bet I would. I think I know that old cow, and if she'd come along poking her nose in my wagon I'd blow her blamed brains out too quick." Jim wasn't entirely satisfied He thought over the matter and concluded to pass the question up to another disciple of Blackstone. Davis' advice smacked too much of anarchy. So he consulted Samuel Boyd, an old and tried advocate.
