Gardens, as he wished to procure some flowers to send a lady constituent then in the city. "Certainly, certainly," replied the ever-obliging statesman; "I will give you a line to old Smith." Just as the delighted member was departing with the letter in hand, Senator Beck remarked, in his peculiarly snappy Scotch accent, "Now, Tom, if you will only tell old Smith that you are a great admirer of his countryman, Robbie Burns, he will give you all the flowers in the conservatory." The member, who knew as little of Burns as he did of the "thirty-nine articles," departed in high feather. Almost immediately thereafter, presenting his letter, he was received with great cordiality by the superintendent and assured that any request of Senator Beck would be cheerfully granted. Just as he was reaching out for the fragrant bouquet the superintendent was graciously presenting, the closing words of the Senator were indistinctly recalled, and in manner indicating no small measure of self-confidence, the member remarked, "By the way, Mr. Smith, I am a great admirer of your countryman, Jimmy Burns." "Jimmy Burns! Jimmy Burns! Jimmy Burns!" exclaimed the overwhelmingly indignant Scotchman, "Jimmy Burns! Depart instantly, sir!” The member from the Green River district departed as bidden, taking no thought of the flowers; delighted often asseverated-to have escaped even with his life. as he XLIX ANECDOTES OF LAWYERS · DEFENDANT'S CIRCUMSTANTIAL JUDGE BALDWIN'S BOOK, THE FLUSH TIMES -- - A CANDIDATE'S QUALIFICATIONS FOR SCHOOL-TEACHING THE AUTHOR N° O better place can be found for studying that most interesting of subjects, Man, than in our courts of justice. Indeed, what a readable book that would be which related the best things which have occurred at the bar! Judge Baldwin conferred an inestimable blessing upon our profession when he wrote "The Flush Times," a book that will hold a place in our literature as long as there is a lawyer left on earth. To two generations of our craft this book has furnished agreeable and delightful entertainment. To the practitioner "shattered with the contentions of the great hall," its pages have been as refreshing as the oasis to the travel-stained pilgrim. The late Justice Field, long his associate upon the supreme bench of California, told me that Judge Baldwin was one of the most genial and delightful men he had ever known, and certainly he must have been to have written "Cave Burton," "My First Appearance at the Bar," "A Hung Court," and "Ovid Bolus, Esq., Attorney-at-law and Solicitor in Chancery." Almost every Bar has some tradition or incident worth preserving something in the way of brilliant witticism or repartee that should not be wholly lost. Of the race of oldtime lawyers of which Mr. Lincoln was the splendid type but few remain. Of the survivors, I know of no better representative than Proctor Knott of Kentucky. The possessor of ability of the highest order, and of splendid attainments as well, he is of all men the best story-teller this country of ours has known. Among his delighted auditors in and out of Congress have been men from every section and of exalted public station. For some of the incidents to be related I am indebted to Governor Knott. The obligation would be much greater if the stories could be retold in manner and form as in days gone by, and upon occasions never to be forgotten when they fell from his own lips. If, however, even fairly well I might garner up and hand down some of the experiences of the generation of lawyers now passing, I would feel that I had, in some humble measure, discharged that obligation that Lord Bacon says, “every man owes to his profession." ONE QUESTION TOO MANY What lawyer has not, at some time, in the trial of a case asked just one question too many? I know of nothing better along that line of inquiry than the following related by Governor Knott. He was attending the Circuit Court in one of the Green River counties in Kentucky, when the case of the "Commonwealth versus William Jenkins" was called for trial. The aforesaid William was under indictment for having bitten off the ear of the prosecuting witness. Fairly strong but by no means conclusive testimony against the defendant had been given when the State "rested." A lawyer of the old school, who still carried his green bag into Court, and who never wearied of telling of his conflicts at the bar with Grundy, Holt, and Ben Hardin, in their palmiest days, was retained for the defence. His chief witness was Squire Barnhouse, who lived over on the "Rolling Fork." He was the magistrate for his precinct, deacon in the church, and the recognized oracle for the neighborhood. Upon direct examination, in the case at bar, he testified that "he knowed the defendant William Jenkins; had knowed him thirty year or more; knowed his father and mother afore him." Inquired of then as to the general reputation of the defendant, as to his being "a peaceable and lawabiding citizen," he was found to be all that could be reasonably desired. Squire Barnhouse was then asked whether he was present at the Caney Fork muster, where it was alleged that the defendant had bitten off the ear of the prosecuting witness. It turned out that he was present. Further questioned as to whether he had paid particular attention to the fight, he replied that he did; that he "had never seed Billy in a fout before, and he had a kind of family pride in seein' how he would handle himself." Further questioned as to whether he saw the defendant bite off the ear of the prosecuting witness he replied, "No, sir, nothin' uv the kind, nothin' uv the kind." This was followed by the inquiry as to whether his opportunities were such that he would most probably have seen it, if it had occurred. "In course I would, in course I would," was the emphatic reply. The witness was here turned over to the Commonwealth's attorney, who declined to cross-examine, and Squire Barnhouse was in the act of leaving the stand when in an evil hour it occurred to defendant's counsel to ask one question more. "By the way, Squire, just one more question, just where you stand; now I understood you to say"-repeating the answers already given; "now just this question, did you see anything occur while the fight was going on, or after it was over, that would lead you to believe that this defendant had bitten off the ear of the prosecuting witness?" The Squire, half down the witness stand, answered, “No, sir, nothing uv the kind," then, slowly and thoughtfully, nothing uv the kind." A moment's pause. "Well, since you mention it, I do remember that just as Billy rizened up offen him the last time, I seed him spit out a piece of ear, but whose ear it was, I don't pertend to know." CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE In the good County of Scotland, in the State of Missouri, back in the ante-bellum days there lived one Solomon Davis, whose chronic horror was card-playing. The evils of this life were in his judgment largely to be attributed to this terrible habit. It was his belief that if the Grand Jury would only take hold of the matter in the right spirit, a stop could be put to the "nefarious habit of card-playing, which was ruining the morals of so many young men in Scotland County." This was the burden of his discourse in and out of season. His ardent desire that he himself should be called on the Grand Jury to the accomplishment of the end mentioned was at length gratified. At a certain term of court he was not only summoned upon the Grand Jury, but duly appointed its foreman. Upon the adjournment of court for dinner, immediately thereafter, one Ben Mason, the wit of the bar, and not himself wholly unacquainted with the pastime that involved spades, kings, and even queens,— ardently congratulated the new foreman upon his appointment, assuring him that now his opportunity had come to put an end, by the omnipotent power of the Grand Jury, "to the nefarious habit of cardplaying which was ruining the morals of so many young men in Scotland County." "And now, Squire," continued Ben, "I can give you the name of a gentleman who does n't play himself, but is always around where playing is going on, and he can tell you who plays, where they play, how much is bet, and all about it." Delighted at this apparently providential revelation, the Squire had a subpoena forthwith issued for the witness mentioned, one Ranzey Sniffle, a half-witted fellow who had never taken or expected to take a part in the game himself, but whose cup of happiness was full to the brim when, in return for punching up the fire, mixing the drinks, and snuffing the candle, he was permitted to see the play actually going on. Trembling with apprehension at the dread summons to appear before the "Grand Inquest" if it had been three centuries earlier at Saragossa it could scarcely have appeared more alarming- the witness was ushered into the immediate presence of the awful tribunal over which Squire Davis was now presiding. After taking the customary oath, |