Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 17.pdf/225

This page needs to be proofread.

208

THE GREEN BAG

THE TALE OF "34 FEDERAL" BY DONALD RICHBERG I AM "34 Federal," a book with a past. Once I was innocent and beautiful, yet withal wise. Now I am still wiser, but my innocence, my beauty, and my pride have fled. Listen to my story. My master is a very poor lawyer. He is not poor in money, because he has managed to conceal his faults under a great bluster of manner, but he is poor in legal wisdom, very careless, and never brilliant in tactics. Not long ago master took me down and thumbed my pages, saying as he did so: "152 or 252 — or — what was that number? I don't suppose the case applies, because no case will apply, but Griswold said it was right in point. — Ah, here it is!" He then ran down the syllabus and before he had read the opinion began to whistle and slap his thighs. This is a thing which only a careless lawyer does: counts his chickens on the eggs in the syllabus (which only too often turn out bad). Next he read the case through carefully, all the time stroking my leather back affectionately. Finally he turned down a corner of two of my leaves and then laid me carefully down at the side of his desk. Just then a client entered the outer office. "Ah!" said master, "come right in, Mr. Brown." Mr. Brown came in looking very sad. He sat down slowly, with a long sigh, and began to tell master how hard times were. Finally he asked if master felt as doubtful about his case as he had . before. Master looked at me and then drew his lips tight together and said: "Well, Mr. Brown, all things are uncer tain in this profession. I think we have a chance to win." Then Mr. Brown went on and talked about how his bills worried him, till finally master interrupted. "Look here, Mr. Brown," he said, "you

mean you'd like to drop this case and not have to pay me any more fees." Then he bellowed out a mirthless sort of guffaw and continued, over-talking Mr. Brown's pro tests : "I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll do this : I don't advise my clients to fight a case un less they have a good chance. Now I'll prove it. I'll carry this litigation through without a cent of further cost to you, not a cent — if I lose. If I win, 'you give me a third — no, hang it! if this is all my game we'll share alike. I'll do it for half." "I'll take you up," said Mr. Brown ea gerly, "I'll take you up." "All right," said master, "we'll just call that settled; and we'll put it down in writing, so we will neither of us forget." After Mr. Brown had gone, master sat for a long time, staring at the blank wall. Then he turned and patted me softly and said to me: "You're worth just half of ten thousand to me, old boy, and I can make pretty good use of that amount right now." For some time after that day I lay on master's desk, and master was so kind in his glances toward me that I began to feel I had hitherto misjudged this man, and I took keen pleasure in this growing friend ship between us. At last one morning he gathered a lot of papers together, with many grunts and much "cussing" of the stenog rapher, and went over to the court room, where he sat holding me in his arms for a short time. Then the clerk called, "Brown against" something or other. I could not quite hear all he said, as master jumped up and hurried forward to where the judge sat. Now came the proudest hour of my life. After a great deal of talk and many dis agreements between the lawyers and the judge, master finally came over to the table where he had left me and opened me to the place where the corners were turned