326
THE GREEN BAG
A VERY good story is told of Judge Sherman, before whom was tried the Tucker case at East Cambridge. He was walking through the Boston streets recently, returning a shabby cotton umbrella to its owner, looking for all the world like a countryman, when a bunco steerer stepped up to him and claimed ac quaintance. "I don't seem to remember you," said the judge. Upon being urged to refresh his memory, the judge, seeing through the little game, calmly said: "Well, my friend, I have sent so many of you boys to jail I can't remember you all, you know." COL. HAY, the handwriting expert for Tucker, was so tormented with questions by Atty.-Gen. Parker that he declared he must have a drink of water before he could say another word. Judge Sheldon, smiling, re plied: "I guess we'll adjourn, for it looks, Mr. Parker, as if you have pumped him pretty dry." LAWYER (to office boy). — Samuel, did I see you reading a law book this morning? OFFICE BOY (proudly). — Yes, sir. LAWYER. — Well, Samuel, that gives you the status of a law clerk. Your salary will be discontinued Saturday. HE was undergoing a poor debtor exami nation, and it was a new experience for him. He had given his name and age and then came the question, "Where do you live?" He named a hotel in the city. "How much do you pay per week for your board?" "Fifteen dollars." "Don't you think that is too much for a man who is trying to take the poor debtor's oath?" "I have told the proprietor fifty times that it was too much, but he won't take off a cent." A BOSTON attorney with greater profes sional zeal than sense of humor recently car ried to the Supreme Court exceptions to a refusal of his motion for a new trial on the ground that two of the jurors slept or were in a condition to sleep during the trial. One is tempted to suggest the defense of estoppel.
IT was several years ago when I was still a young lawyer, representing a negro, charged with murder, with only one witness for the state, whose testimony, if believed by the jury, however, would convict my client. I had pursued the usual course of asking for con tinuances and postponements, with the hope that the state's only witness might depart this life. But naturally there at last came a day when no further delay was tolerated by the court. On the day set for trial I and my client were in our places in court. One look ing at the expressions on our faces might not have believed the defendant was the counsel, but, no doubt, would have thought that coun sel was defendant. I had almost despaired. By a mere coincidence, my mother-in-law, who had been visiting her daughter for about two months, had set that day to leave for her home in another state. The moment the case was called it occurred to me, the first time, to make the announcement I did make. "If your honor please, I cannot go into the trial of this case" ' ' Now, counsel will remember that when we had this case under consideration last it was understood that there should be no fur ther delay," the court interrupted me to say. "Your honor will hear me?" I inquired meekly, fearing that the court might not ap preciate what I was about to say. "Oh, certainly, go on," his honor answered. "If your honor please, I am in this situa tion." I proceeded to tell the court that after a visit of several weeks my mother-inlaw was making her arrangements to leave on the noon train that day, and I felt that I would like to see her off; that it was a duty I owed her, etc. "How long did you say your mother-inlaw has been at your house?" the court, again interrupting me, inquired. "Seven weeks, to be accurate," I replied. "Mr. Solicitor" — the court now addressed the state's representative — "I know you; I know that one of your kindly nature will not resist this motion to postpone this case." "Certainly not, your honor," that official replied. "Counsel is excused; we will try this case to-morrow." — EUGENE RAY in the AlbanyLaw Journal.
