SOME MISSOURI "YARNS." By Hon. William A. Wood.
COUNTRY lawyers in Missouri have al ways been wont to congregate of even ings during the session of Circuit Courts, either in the office of some popular member of the bar, or in the favorite tavern's parlor, which the ladies usually abandoned to them at " court time," and relate amusing " yarns" of the profession. The joke often pointed toward certain present members of the com pany, who generally bore the martyrdom in good humor; in earlier times ordering the "toddy" from the hotel bar, but modernly confining themselves to the milder stimu lant, — cigars. The following are a few ot the "yarns" the writer remembers either to have heard on such occasions, or to have personally observed; some of them, at least, are founded upon actual occurrences. The subjects of some of them are among the most profound jurists and skilful practi tioners of Missouri's brilliant bar; and the stories are here told in the kindliest spirit, with the belief that if any who happen to be "hit " recognize themselves, they will " save no exceptions," knowing that the intention herein is to cheer some overworked and weary brother of the bench or bar. In the early settlement of Missouri the leading bar for the Northwest resided at what is now called Old Sparta, in Buchanan County. Here Gov. Willard P. Hall, ChiefJustice Henry M. Vories, and Attorney-Gen eral James B. Gardenhire began the practice in about 1840. One of the three about that time tried a case in what is now Gentry County, involving the levying upon and sell ing of property which was by statute exempt from execution. The property sold consisted of some stands of honey-bees in old-fash ioned log gums. The attorney introduced his proof, and read to the jury that part of
the then statute which held exempt from execution "to the head of a family working animals to the value of $150," being in tended to cover oxen, which were the prin cipal working animals of that day, as well as horses and mules. " Now, gentlemen of the jury," said he for the plaintiff, " I have proved that these bees were worth less than § 150, and I will leave it for you to say what is a more working animal than a bee." His opponent could not break the force of this argument, and the future Chief-Justice won his case. In Platte County, Missouri, in an early day, an old Tennessean was made justice of the peace. A leading attorney of that sec tion, who was later on prominent in national councils, in trying a case before him had oc casion to refer to a law but recently enacted by the Legislature, and brought along a copy of the Session Acts, — in that day a very insignificant volume. He read the Act in question to the justice, who listened pa tiently; and when the attorney ceased reading, relieved his mouth of an accumu lation of tobacco-juice, and said, — "Mister , whut war thet thar letle book you-uns wus re'din' outen?" "That, sir," said the attorney, " is the Statutes of Missouri." "You-uns cain't pull the wool over weuns no sech way, 'Square," said his honor; "thet thar letle book ain't no bigger 'n a Tennysee almernack. I 'cides the case ag'in you-uns, 'Square; and if you-uns 'spects to plee in this hayer cote ag'in, you-uns 'll hev to go 'ith we-uns over 'long o' the still-house, and treat to the licker." The defeated attorney good-naturedly "treated to the licker," in the hope of getting a better hearing next time.
