AN Iowa lawyer tells the following story of his first months of practice. He went to a small country town and secured an office room in front of which was placed the usual sign. Then he sat' down and waited for his clients to appear, all the while feeling very much the dignity of his position. The day passed and no one called, and another, and another, until the weeks went by and still there had been no client. One morning, however, he was at the depot to attend upon the arrival of the daily accommodation train, quite an important function of the town, when a handsome, welldressed young lady approached and in quired, "Is this Mr. Smith?" At once the feeling of importance returned, and in his blandest tone, he replied: It is, madam. What can I do for you?" "Can you tell me how much it will cost to send a sow and pigs down to the next station?" JUDGE JAMES SEVIER, of the Kingston, Tennessee, bar, a great-grandson of the famed John Sevier, hero of King's Moun tain, and first governor of the State, tells the following story of a busy, money-making old fellow who lived in the country, and sel dom went to town, except on business: One day, while in on an important errand, he was summoned to attend court as a jury man. He tried to persuade the officer to let him off, but the fellow was incorrigible, and then the man who was "cotch" con cluded to try his powers of persuasion with the judge. The latter dignitary declined to excuse him until a certain murder case should have boen disposed of, in which case he had found it difficult to secure a jury of competent men. The cause was at last called, and our friend, the countryman, took his seat in the box. He answered the usual questions, leaning as strongly as possible towards the side of his own disqualification, but without avail. He was accepted, and yielded to fate, as gracefully as possible. The judge had positively promised to ex
cuse him when that case was disposed of, and his heart jumped when the question was propounded to the prisoner, "Are you guilty, or not guilty?" and he responded, "Not guilty." Thereupon the unwilling juryman snatched up his hat and started to leave the court-room. "Where are you going, sir?" demanded the judge. "Why, I'm going home," said the jury man. "But you cannot go, until this case is dis posed of. I thought you understood that." "W'y, jedge. I thought hit was done dis posed of. Didn't ye hear 'im say he ain't guilty?" The matter was explained to him, and he finally understood that the prisoner's state ment was not quite conclusive of the ques tion at issue. The trial proceeded, and when, after two or three days of torture to the hero of the story, the judge delivered his charge and gave the case to the jury, our friend was called upon to tell what he thought about the defendant's guilt or innocence. "When he said he wasn't guilty, I believed him, and supposed that settled it," he ex plained. "But the judge said it didn't, and that of course settled it. "When I heard what the witnesses for the State said, I was ready to quit, and help hang him. But when I heard what the other witnesses had to say, I wanted to turn him loose, without any more foolishness. Then the attorney general made a speech, and I come to the conclusion again that the feller was guilty, and thought he ought to be hung. But his lawyer made a speech after that, an' I made up my mind that he ought to be turned loose, as I had thought twict before. "Then Judge Blank, the old fleebitten numbskull, he made a speech, and now I don't know what in the devil we ought to do. I'm willing ter jest leave the whole thing to the balance of ye, an" I hope ye'll settle it, purty mighty quick. I want to go home, and git to work."
