More Toasts Part 49

How sweet and gracious, even in common speech, Is that fine sense which men call Courtesy!

Wholesome as air and genial as the light, Welcome in every clime as breaths of flowers-- It trans.m.u.tes aliens into trusting friends, And gives its owner pa.s.sport round the globe.

--_J.T. Fields_.

COURTS

A couple of old codgers got into a quarrel and landed before the local magistrate. The loser, turning to his opponent in a combative frame of mind, cried: "I'll law you to the Circuit Court."

"I'm willin'," said the other.

"An' I'll law you to the Supreme Court."

"I'll be thar."

"An' I'll law to 'ell!"

"My attorney'll be there," was the calm reply.

In the course of his examination these questions were put to an old negro who was appearing as a witness:

"What is your name?"

"Calhoun Clay, sah."

"Can you sign your name?"

"Sah?"

"I ask if you can write your name?"

"Well, no, sah. Ab nebber writes mah name. Ah dictates it, sah."

MAGISTRATE (to prisoner)--"What is your name?"

PRISONER--"S-s-sam S-s-sissons, S-s-sir."

MAGISTRATE--"Where do you live?"

PRISONER--"S-s-seventy seven S-s-surrey street. S-s-sir."

MAGISTRATE (to policeman)--"Officer, what is this man charged with?"

OFFICER--"Begorry, yer honor. Oi think he must be charged with soda wather."

In one of the Brooklyn courts a recent case required the testimony of a young German immigrant.

"Now, Britzmann," said the lawyer for the plaintiff, "what do you do?"

"Ah vos pretty vell," replied the witness.

"I am not inquiring as to your health. I want to know what you do."

"Vork!"

"Where do you work?" continued the counsel.

"In a vactory."

"What kind of a factory?"

"It vos bretty big vactory?"

"Your honor," said the lawyer, turning to the judge, "if this goes on we'll need an interpreter." Then he turned to the witness again.

"Now, Britzmann, what do you make in the factory?" he asked.

"You vant to know vot I make in der vactory?"

"Exactly! Tell us what you make."

"Eight dollars a veek."

Then the interpreter got a chance to earn his daily bread.

"Uncle Joe Cannon was asked today what he thought of the outlook for the Republican party in 1916, and he answered with a story.

"A black man was arrested for horse-stealing while I was prosecuting-attorney in Vermilion county," he said, "and was placed on trial after being duly indicted. When his day in court came he was taken before the judge and I solemnly read the charge in the indictment to him.

"'Are you guilty or not?' I asked.

"The black man rolled uneasily in his chair. 'Well, boss,' he finally said, 'ain't dat the very thing we're about to try?'"

JUDGE--"Officer, what's the matter with the prisoner--tell her to stop that crying--she's been at it fifteen minutes" (more sobs).

OFFICER--"Please, sir, I'm a'thinking she wants to be bailed out."

_See also_ Jury; Witnesses.