the Chief-Juslice fell behind and a little to one side, and told Bill to knock on the door. Bill rapped, and the Associate Justice opened the door, and peering out into the dusk, saw Bill, his imagined enemy, standing in silence looking at him in his peculiar way. He threw up his hands and fell backward in a swoon from fright. The Chief-Justice', in stead of enjoying his joke, had to go to work in disgust to resuscitate his frightened brother and calm his fears. It is needless to say the Associate Justice never liked the ChiefJustice after he got " onto" the joke. A former Chief-Justice of Missouri was very dark-skinned, always wore a browned and foxy old silk hat, and during his vaca tions professed to be quite a farmer. Some of the irreverent alleged that he captured the rural vote in this way. On a hot August day the judge with a team and breakingplough was essaying to turn over a piece of stubble near his residence, wearing a suit of old clothes, but keeping on his favorite old silk tile. A couple of farmers who seldom came to the county-seat passed along the high way, and one of them failed to recognize the Chief-Justice in his husbandman's garb, but knew he resided there. When they were well opposite him, the farmer in question, pointing to the judge and speaking so he could hear him, innocently remarked to his companion, " Say, Bill, if I was Judge , I 'll be d d if I 'd allow that durned nigger to plough with a plug hat on." The joke was so good the judge told it on himself at the next session of the court. One of the brightest corporation lawyers formerly of Missouri's Bar relates the follow ing on himself. He was living in a country town, had just married, and was beginning to win fame and practice, but sometimes with a few boon companions he would en gage in a game of "draw poker" at a few cents " ante," to make it interesting. Some "black sheep," who probably thought he had been too well "fleeced," gave the game
away to the grand jury, and they were all indicted. The weekly paper published the docket just before court, as is the custom; and E , without thinking of his own case, carried it home to his young wife. She in looking over the paper discovered on the docket " State of Missouri vs. E ," and exclaimed, much frightened, " My dear, what in the world does this mean?" E . with a characteristic readiness, by which he often saved a weak case, glanced at the paper unconcernedly and said, "Oh, that's nothing, dear; they have to have so many State cases before court can run; and as there were not enough for this term, I told the clerk to put one down against me." Will. J. Knott, the lawyer editor of the "Hannibal Journal," furnishes the data for the following: Popular Ed Silver of Jefferson City, one of the ablest lawyers in the State, and some years ago rightly called by the ladies " that handsome young private secre tary of Governor Hardin's," is still a bachelor, though not an "old " one, and is very much attached (his friends think needlessly so) to a frowsy-looking dog he owns, called "Boze." Ed says he is a bird-dog; but he has never been known to either " set " or " stand " any thing wearing feathers. Ed excuses him on this point, because he says his pressing pro fessional duties have prevented him giving Boze a proper education. Some months ago Ed took Will Zevely, the State law librarian, out in his buggy one afternoon to rehearse one of his speeches to him and get his opinion of it. They were ac companied, as usual, by Boze, who followed at the rear of the vehicle when they started. Ascending the long hill west of the capital city, Ed suddenly discovered that Boze was missing! "Say, Zev," said he, " durn me if I don't believe somebody 's stole Boze." They both stood up in the buggy and sur veyed the country, including the bold and beautiful bluffs on the Callaway side of the river, for at least a mile and a half in every
