COURT-ROOM SCENES.
I am as full of law this evening as a sea-shell of sound, having been wedged in the District Court room from 10 o’clockA. M.to 9P. M., listening to testimony in the re-trial of the case of the People vs. a fiery lady, if we may use the expression, who brought down her game the first shot.
Though the room was crowded almost to suffocation, I fancy there is not that deep interest that was manifested during the former trial. On that occasion there were so many letters introduced in evidence, such a mass of private correspondence dragged from musty trunks, and laid open to the public, that thousands flocked daily to the court room, in hopes of hearing something rich, if not instructive. I shall never forget the excitement during the reading of letter No. 947. It was from the defendant.
The counsel for the defence argued a goodround two hours and a half by the court-room clock, against the letter being admitted in evidence. He maintained it was irrelevant, as it had never been opened, the receiver forgetting to read it, or neglecting to do so, for some reason of his own.
A DROWSY JURY.
A DROWSY JURY.
A DROWSY JURY.
The counsel for the people followed with even a longer appeal to the judge to admit the letter, strengthening his argument by lengthyquotations from Blackstone, Kent, Wharton, and other authorities, endeavoring to prove it should be put in evidence, as its contents might assist materially in furthering the ends of justice.
The judge began to show unmistakable signs of impatience. He remarked that already a package of letters had been read that would go far towards shingling the Mechanics’ Pavilion, and had no more bearing upon the point at issue than “Darwin’s Descent of Man” had upon the culture of white beans. He finally gave way before the preponderance of the prosecuting attorney’s argument, and directed an officer to wake the jury, as a letter was to be read that all should hear. After considerable shaking and poking, this difficult duty was performed. Even the deaf juror was aroused, though the good-natured judge had permitted him to sleep during the introduction of several preceding epistles.
After order was restored, and an inventive juror had improvised an ear trumpet with a piece of legal cap for his unfortunate companion, thebillet douxwas opened. As the seal wasbroken, judge and jury rose to their feet with one accord, and leaned as far forward as their desks would allow, the more readily to catch every word of the important document. The silence in the room was death-like. It was supposed that on the contents of this letter hung either a scaffold or an acquittal. The weak ticking of the dusty clock upon the wall was the only sound that disturbed the awful stillness. As the calm settled, the muffled beat of the time-piece increased in force and volume until it seemed to attain the tones of a fire bell. Presently the attorney in a high and tremulous voice began to read. The contents ran thus:—
“My Dear, Delightful Darling:—How are my stocks selling now?
Your Loving, Adoring L——.”
Your Loving, Adoring L——.”
Your Loving, Adoring L——.”
Your Loving, Adoring L——.”
The effect was thrilling. The lawyer dropped the letter upon the table before him, ran his white fingers through his hair, and looked around with the air of a tired traveler when he ascertains he has walked five miles upon the wrong road. The gentlemen of the jury, with looks more of anger than of sorrow, dropped intotheir seats as suddenly as though an invisible hand had caught them from behind and jerked them to their benches.
The Judge, with an ill-concealed look of disgust, settled back into his chair, and the deep crease in his vest, immediately over where his dinner should have been hours before, grew more painfully perceptible.
I elbowed my way from the suffocating room before further correspondence was selected from the package for perusal.