Legal Luminaries
Yours is certainly an unusual case, said the lawyer, and it will be necessary to consult a number of books.
So? queried the client.
Yes, answered the legal light, and we will begin with your pocketbook.
He had finished his speech at a dinner party, and on seating himself a lawyer rose, shoved his hands deep into his trousers pockets, as was his habit, and laughingly inquired of those present:
Doesn’t it strike this company as a little unusual that a professional humorist should be funny!
When the laughter that greeted this sally had subsided, Mark Twain drawled out—Doesn’t it strike this company as a little unusual that a lawyer should have his hands in his own pockets?
As a prisoner was brought before the judge for sentence the clerk happened to be absent. The judge asked the officer in charge of the prisoner what the offence was with which he was charged.
Bigotry, your honor. He’s been married to three women.
Why, officer, that’s not bigotry, said the judge, that’s trigonometry.
There was an old man who was charged with illicit distilling and was brought up before the court. The Judge, who was a witty fellow, asked the prisoner what was his Christian name. The prisoner replied, Joshua, and the Judge answered, Are you the man that made the sun shine? and the prisoner replied, No, sir, your honor; I’m the one that made the moonshine.
A jury recently met to inquire into a case of suicide. After sitting through the evidence the twelve men retired, and, after deliberating, returned with the following verdict—
The jury are all of one mind—temporarily insane!
In a lawsuit in Pennsylvania not long ago the question was put to a miner on the witness stand.
Were you ever hurt in the mines?
Indade I was, responded the man, I was half kilt once.
Now tell the court whether you were injured at any other time, continued the cross-examiner.
Yes. I was half kilt in another accident shortly after that.
Your Honor, smilingly interjected counsel for the other side, I object to this man’s testimony.
Upon what ground? asked the judge.
On the ground that, having been half killed twice, he is a dead man and therefore incompetent as a witness.
In a suit recently tried in a Virginia town a young lawyer of limited experience was addressing the jury on a point of law, when good-naturedly he turned to opposing counsel, a man of much more experience than himself, and asked—
That’s right, I believe, Colonel Hopkins?
Whereupon Hopkins, with a smile of conscious superiority, replied—
Sir, I have an office in Richmond wherein I shall be delighted to enlighten you on any point of law for a consideration.
The youthful attorney, not in the least abashed, took from his pocket a half-dollar piece, which he offered Col. Hopkins with this remark—
No time like the present. Take this, sir, tell us what you know and give me the change.
Secretary Elihu Root was talking about the humanity of judges.
They are humane men, he said. I could tell you many moving stories of the pain that they have suffered in the infliction of severe sentences. It is not altogether pleasant to be a judge.
That is why I can not credit a story that was told me the other day about a judge in the West. A criminal on trial before this man had been found guilty. He was told to rise, and the judge said to him—
Have you ever been sentenced to imprisonment before?
No, your honor, said the criminal, and he burst into tears.
Well, said the judge, don’t cry, you’re going to be now.
This story of the election expenses of a Georgia lawyer who was defeated for county commissioner in the recent primary, reaches us by way of theNewark Ledgerin a dispatch from Atlanta. His sworn statement runs—
Lost 1,349 hours’ sleep thinking about the election. Lost two front teeth and a whole lot of hair in a personal encounter with an opponent. Donated one beef, four shoats, and five sheep to a county barbecue. Gave away two pairs of suspenders, four calico dresses, $5 cash, and thirteen baby rattles. Kissed 126 babies. Kindled fourteen kitchen fires. Put up four stoves. Walked 4,076 miles. Shook hands with 9,508 persons. Told 10,101 lies, and talked enough to make, in print, 1,000 volumes. Attended sixteen revival meetings, and was baptized four different times by immersion, and twice some other way. Contributed $50 to foreign missions, and made love to nine grass widows. Hugged forty-nine old maids. Got dog-bit thirty-nine times, and was defeated.
Sam Kalleton, a member of the Arkansas Legislature, was very fond of offering amendments to bills introduced. That was the limit of his legislative capacity. One morning, after a night’s hilarity, he entered the legislative hall just as the chaplain was asking divine aid. The old man took a chew of tobacco, and listened attentively until the chaplain closed his petition with an effective recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. Mr. Speaker, said the old man, arising, I move to strike out the words daily bread, and insert as much bread as may be found necessary for twenty days. We have already done enough for the flood sufferers.
A prominent lawyer of New York says that many years ago he went West, but as he got no clients, and stood a good chance of starving, he decided to come East again. Without any money he boarded a train for Nashville, Tenn., intending to seek employment as reporter on one of the daily newspapers, says theNew York Telegraph. When the conductor called for his ticket, he said—
I am on the staff of the ⸺ of Nashville. I suppose you will pass me.
The conductor looked at him sharply.
The editor of that paper is in the smoker; come with me; if he identifies you, all right.
He followed the conductor into the smoker; the situation was explained. Mr. Editor said—
Oh, yes, I recognize him as one of the staff; it is all right.
Before leaving the train the lawyer again sought the editor.
Why did you say you recognized me? I’m not on your paper.
I’m not the editor either. I’m traveling on his pass, and was scared to death lest you should give me away.
Judge Ben. B. Lindsey, the noted reformer of Denver, was lunching one day—it was very warm—when a politician paused beside his table.
Judge, said the politician, I see you’re drinkin’ hot cawfee. That’s a heatin’ drink.
Yes? said Judge Lindsey.
Oh, yes. In this weather you want iced drinks, judge—sharp, iced drinks. Did you ever try gin and ginger ale?
No, said the judge, smiling, but I’ve tried several fellows who have.
Harry Bulger has recently added to his repertoire of stories a new character vignette which has been received with laughter in the South. As Mr. Bulger will be the guest of the Forty Club in Chicago during the “Woodland” engagement in that city, he is reserving this story for the post-prandial gossip.
It relates largely to a lawyer and a Jewish client during a civil action. The attorney, watching the evidence and the countenance of the Judge, whose reputation for severity was well known in the district, whispered to his Hebrew client.
It looks very bad. We are going to lose the case. Whereupon the client responded.
Vell, I will send the Judge a box of cigars.
Great heavens, no! That would end it.
The following day much to the surprise of the plaintiff’s attorney, the decision was rendered for his client. Meeting his Jewish friend later the lawyer exclaimed—
By Jove, I cannot understand this decision. Beats anything I ever heard. Tell me, did you send the Judge a box of cigars?
Certainly. Of course I did.
What?
Yes, but I sent it with the card of the other fellow in it.