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The Jury System j
Not Twelve Good and True Men but
Perjurers Who Need Attention . . .
Ey F. W. Hendrickson
’
0 NY one who lias had any considerable experience as a jury-
of the peculiar ..
man can readily call to mind ninny instances
nmntnl efforts of a number of Jurymen with whom tie has
at times been associated. When twelve men, strangers to
one another, are brought together seriously to examine and
decide some complicated question of (acts it can easily be
understood that the ease Is rendered still more complicated
by the diversity of opinion that is likely to prevail among
the Jurymen. most
While the conflicts of the jury room are for the
part the clear result of plg-headedneRs as opfiosed to falrmindedness, often¬
times determination opposed to stubbornness, still It must be said that the
general results are In the interests of justice. It is not always easy for any
one of the individual jurymen to form a personal opinion, and the main dif¬
ficulty in this respect is Invariably his lack of confidence in the witness
stand.
Attacks on the jury system have been of ermmon occurrence ever since
the time of Edward III. The problem to be solved at this time, however, is
not how can the jury be replaced with some safer and surer method, but
how can the witness stand be kept free from the large number of wilful liars
who take the oath with a mental reservation, give their manufactured evi¬
dence, arid after the verdict is rendered, just or unjust, retire to the privacy
of their lives without a blemish and with a laugh up the sleeve at the im-
potency of the law.
It seems to be a common Idea among lawyers that they cannot hope to
win their cases if their opponents produce too many untruthful witnesses,
U would stem that any man who is able on cross-examination to annihilate
the fabrications of a witness on the stand is eminently qualified to secure
Biibstantiul approval of the jury system. Many lawyers, try as they may,
ar< not able to break down the testimony of a well schooled witness without
harassing him in a way that the jurymen are usually slow to understand or
approve of.
It would be well, now' that a few shafts are to be directed at the system
which prevails in the administration of justice, if a good proportion of these
darts should find a mark among the growing class of hell bent conspirators
called perjurers and others who give them encouragement.
f Tag the Revolvers J
1 By Paul Thieman SO
0 HE law requires that every bottle of poison shall be labelled
distinctly not only arsenic, laudanum, or strychnine, but
‘Poison—Beware!’’
I’sualh skull and cross-bones are added to emphasize
the deadliness of the danger.
And it seems as if ; s actually necessary to require all
firearms to bear a large red metal tag, relatively as plain as
labels on poison bottles and signs at railway crossings.
The United States Constitution guarantees to the citi¬
zen the right to keep and bear arms. But it would not infringe that right to
enforce the rule of the red metal tag:
DEADLY WEAPON.
Stop—Think! Take Care!
DANGER! DANGER!
Here are a few simple rules for avoiding the accidental discharge of re¬
volvers and sparing your own and others’ lives;
Never baud a firearm around to be looked at without first removing the
cartridges.
Do not finger the trigger or handle the hammer until they are removed.
Count the cartridges!
Never clean a revolver that Is loaded.
Never reload with the weapon at half cock or full cock.
Don’t touch one if you don't know how to handle it.
Don’t keep a revolver! <•
The last rule is most reliable in preventing accidents.
Did you ever think of the absurdity of keeping a weapon you couldn’t
hit a burglar with, even if he stood still and let you take careful aim?
For burglars, keep a halberd—you can scare them with that more than if
you pointed two revolvers at them!—New York American.
I Horse a Ey Stupid E. T. Brewster Animal j
- — HERE have been on exhibition, at various times, horses who
T are, apparently, prodigies of mathematical insight; who can
do anything with numbers that the trainer can do. Yet we
absolutely know that no animal can so much as count at
8 at all. Furthermore, it is always the horse that performs
these marvels, though the horse is the most utterly stupid
of all the dumb creatures that man has made his friends.
_That is precisely why the horse is always taken to be
made into an arithmetician. He is so stupid that he can
be taught anything—any habit, that is—and having no mind to be taken up
with his own affairs, can be relied on to dp exactly as he is told.
All these arithmetical lakes, whatever their details, are worked in es-
sentially the same way. The horse is taught, by endless repetitions, some
mechanical habit. A given signal, and he begins to paw the floor. Another
signal, and he stops. Press the proper button, and he takes a sponge and
rubs it over a certain spot on a blackboard, or picks up a card lying in a
certain position. That is all he does. The meaning of the act exists for the
spectator only. The pawlngs count the answer to a problem in addition, the
card bears the reply to a question. But the horse does not know it. He
merely follows a blind habit, just as he will stop when you say “Whoa!”
though you interpolate the word into your recitation of the Declaration of
Independence.—McClure’s.
*
gKSWwwyw
“ The Greatest Glory
Of Any People”
By Col. George Harvey , Editor of Harper’s Weekly
♦ F to-morrow this Nation should be obliterated, if the earth
•> * £ itself should be destroyed, the greatest glory of any people
♦ would he left in these imperishable words:
* “Congress shall make no law respecting an establish-
# + thereof;
*5- ment of religion, or prohibiting ihe free exercise
*<5 m M'***'M>* or abridging the freedom of speech or of the and press; to petition or the
right cf the people peaceably to assemble,
*t**t*£w* the Government for a redress of grievances.” liberty, there shone the
There was the crux of human
noonday sun from whose face the clouds of ihe middle ages had been swept
away, there flashed the spirit of freedom from which is now springing gov¬
ernments by the people from the land of the Spaniard to the home of Ma¬
homet; but underneath and upholding all was and is the one great overpower¬
ing fact that there, for the first time in the history of the world, tolerance was
written into the fundamental law of a land guided, guarded and inspired By
Christian faith.
OX COMO.
A rainless darkness drew o'er the lake.
As we lay in our boat with oars unshipped awake,
It seemed neither cloud nor water slipped
And forth of the low black curtain
Thunderless lightning. Scoff no more flight
At angels imagined in downward
Tor the daughters of earth, as fabled of
ITero yore: beauty might well invite
was
Dark heavens to gleam with the fire of
sun
Resurgent; here the exchanged earth embrace,
Worthy of heaven and made one.
Said And, the witness it. and ye of the the mountains, privileged space, from
flash; as
1 quivering an abyss, seconds leaped
That For up to attest
given, received, renewed was the kiss;
i q'p,, ijp K m ^and the breast to breast;
All in eagle a 'dory of ecstasy, and swift the
| As an at prey, pure as prayer
Of To an be guarded infant, bidden through joined darkness hands by uplift spirits
i
j Ere getting of air, the sails of sleep till day.
j
Slowly fhe low cloud swung, and far
It panted along its mirrored way.
Above loose threads one sanctioning star
The wonder of what hud been witnessed
sealedi
And with me still, as in crystal the glassed,
Are the vealed, depths alight, heavens re¬
When on to the Alps the Muteness passed.
—George Meredith, in Scribner’s Monthly.
OOOOOOOOOOOCOOOOOCOOOOOQOO
£o tiii; cO
Professor’s Servant 8
§
c
By Fedden Tindall. oo o
® OOOOOCOOOGOOOOCOOOOC 0
The professor was always quiet,
his voice was ever slow and drowsy,
his face wore aft expression of en-
during thought and abstraction, his
hands were folded motionless upon
his knees.
And yet he was this day unusually
excited. He was roused from the
even monotony of his days; he had
displayed a little calm, unemotional
pleasure at this meeting with an old
friend.
For opposite him, on the other side
of a brightly burning fire, sat .the
man who was probably the only
friend in the world who would have
troubled to seek out this strange
recluse.
“You have changed little, my
friend,” said the Professor slowly.
“Have I? Well, I have learned to
take the rough with the smooth, and
on the whole, my life has been a
happy one. Yet, all the same. I am
growing old. Why, do you know I
ami a grandfather?”
The Professor spoke more slowly
f han ever,
“Ah? your life has been happy;
so you may well keep young. You
always had the faculty for enjoy¬
ment. I have studied much; but that
I have never learned.”
“It is a pity,” said the other
quickly.
"Granted. But now it is too late
to updo what has been dene. I have
a certain amount of brains, I have
earned a sufficiency of fhoney, at one
time I had much cheap fame. But
now all seem valueless. Life does
not hold much of joy for me, my
friend.”
“I am sorry. I fancy you hove
missed the human side of life.”
“It has eluded me. Once I strove
to pursue it—in vain.”
“Have you ever loved a woman or
a child?”
“Children are strangers to me.
Women? There was one woman
once, but she was false.”
“And who was she? May I ask?”
“She was my wife.”
4 < Your wife?” The friend of old
days was filled with a great astonish¬
ment. “I had no idea that you had
ever married.”
“It was many years ago. I sought^ it
happiness; as I told you, for me
proved elusive.”
“She is dead?” »
“I neither know nor care. She
left me one year after marriase.”
“Alone?”
“I have never even troubled to
Inquire. She was gone. I would
not bring her back—not by one word,
one glance, one uncontrolled desire,
She died to me when she destroyed
all my faith in woman.”
“You had been happy with her?”
“Her mere presence made my hap-
piness."
“And hers?”
“I judged her by myself. I always
imagined that I made her life happy;
I was mistaken.”
There was a certain pathos in
this sudden revelation of an unsus-
pected humanity. The thought that
love had ever laid her magic hand
on this cold man of work and loneli-
ness was passing strange.
“How long ago was all this?” The
old friend put the question diffidently,
and there was a very real sympathy
underlying his quiet tones.
“Eight years ago she left me. It
seems to me a lifetime. All the vouth
and the brightness left my house
with her. I was old, she was so very
young. Ah, my dream was in truth
foolishness.”
"Your life must be very lonely, old
friend. Whom have you to nurse
you and care for you?"
"My servant. He is a good lad.
Six years he has been with me, and
in all that time he has never left me
once. Yes, his is the only faithful¬
ness that I have known. I have
grown fond of him.”
A * a P a t the door had passed
unnoticed, and now a slim youth
same into the room, bringing a tea
tW with him. Very softly and care-
fully he moved about, arranging a
little table by the fireplace, and set-
s ting out all sorts of delicacies there¬
on. Then quietly he handed his mas¬
ter the cup of cocoa which he made
for him every afternoon.
! "What else will you have?” ne
inquired.
“My usual toast. Butter It for
me,” the Professor said shortly.
“Pour out tea for my friend also, be¬
fore you go.”
And the friend sat watching silent-
ly, and he thought how wistful were
the lad’s fine eyes, how much sad-
ness their depths seemed concealing.
"It must be a dull life for a boy,”
he thought to himself. “He is cer-
tainly extraordinarily faithful.” And
once the subject of sio his thoughts had
left the room, he spoke aloud some
of these Ideas concerning him.
“I like your lad’s face; he has eyes
like a faithful dog. But he has a
wonderfully sad expression; don’t
you think so?”
“I cannot see it,” said the Professor
_ E rave _,’___j*, j v
„ KT or see it. «ut „
,
1 am nearly blind now.
“My friend, I had no idea; yon did
not tell me.”
“I had a long illness after she left
me,” came the slow, sad answer,
“My sight was affected. I am not
yet totally blind; 1 but I cannot sen
to do , a thing .. , for . mvseL. „
“I am truly sorry. I should never
have fancied it.”
“No; I believe you would not tell
from the outward appearance of my
eyes; but the sight is practically
gone. So, you see, a faithful servant
is a real necessity. necessity ”
. .. It . is a mercy you have got him.
“It is. I am utterly dependent on
him now. And I am not ungrateful
for his faithful service. I have left
him everything I possess in my will.
He is giving me all Jtis youth, you
see.”
All his youth! All his heart, all
his life, might perhaps have been
nearer the truth. For at that very
moment the Professor’s servant was
standing with quivering lip and tear-
filled eye, because he had at last
heard words of appreciation of him¬
self. He had overheard that simple
remark, “I have grown fqnd of him.”
And so evening drew on, and the
Professor and his old friend still
sat talking in the dancing glow of
the firelight. And at last the friend
took his leave with promises of a
future visit. Then quietly the ser¬
vant came again to ask his master if
lights were not needed. And still
the tears were in the lad’s eyes, and
now his voice was husky.
“What is the matter?” asked the
Professor shortly. That voice was
ever calm and cheerful; it was full
of sadness now, and a struggle for
composure.
“I am sorry ” He tried to an¬
swer steadily; but again his voice
broke; again his tears came unhid¬
den.
“Tell me, what is it?” The Pro¬
fessor's voice had grown kindly.
And then a strange thing happened.
The servant impulsively flung himself
on his knees beside his master, and
seizing the wrinkled hand, he pressed
a passionate kiss upon it.
“Oh. I can hear this no longer," he
cried wildly. “Oh, surely I have
proved my penitence, my reparation
is complete. Say, have I earned for-
giveness?”
The eyes that were nearly blind
strained curiously into the darkness,
the hand which had known that kiss
of passion still rested motionless, the
Professor neither moved nor spoke.
The paralyzing influence of utter sur¬
prise was upon him. And still that
eager, pleading voice continued.
“I have helped you a little, have
I not? I have eased a little pain,
cured a little loneliness? Six years
I have been your servant as atone¬
ment for my sin. Give me back my
own place again, dear, I have
learned so much since I failed to
value it long ago.”
Still the Professor could find no
words. But the hand which had
known that passionate kiss was
rested tenderly on the head of his
servant—his repentant wife.—Phila¬
delphia Ledger.
SCARLET FEVER.
A Scourge of White Races in All Ages
and Countries.
Now that smallpox, thanks to com¬
pulsory ’ vaccination, has become a
rarity in civilized communities, scar-
let fever steps forward as the worst
of the eruptive diseases of childhood,
It is a malady of enormous antiquity.
Thucydides, writing nearly 500 years
before the beginning of our era,
called it a heritage from the remote
past. it has scourged ' the white races
r all . ages and all ,, countries, . . orwl and the
rn
physicians of all schools have leveled
their heaviest artillery upon it. Yet
it remains a puzzle unsolved and an
enemy unconquered even to-day. We
are in doubt as to its cause, and there
is no drug or antitoxin that wTll cure
it. But despite all this the death
rate from scarlet fever is steadily de-
dining, and we may expect it to de¬
cline more and more as the years go
by. The reason for this, I take it,
lies in the fact that the modern doc-
tor is a great deal more sparing with
pills and powders than his predeces¬
sor and a great deal more lavish with
water, air and antiseptics. In the old
days it was customary to dose scarlet
fever patients with all sorts of vio-
lent remedies in staggering quanti-
ties, and as a result many of them
died. To-day medicines are but
minor auxiliaries in the sickroom,
and both doctor and nurse devote
their main energies to preventing a
spread of the infection.-—Delineator.
The mackerel cat£h of Guysboro,
Nova Scotia, this season has been
the largest in the last twenty years.
Here it is not uncommon for one man
to catch from 1200 to 1800 mackerel
in his nets, sometimes making as high
as $200 a day.
THE CRUSADE AGAINST DRINK
PROGRESS MADE BY CHAMPIONS
j FIGHTING THE RUM DEMON.
The Literary Digest Gives No t Ln«
certain Sound,
A remarkable editorial in Bonfort s
“'Vine ani1 s ' ,lrit Circular
warns the saloon that it must
reform or lor lhe people are be-
coming (Ilsg „ ste d with its evils. The
recent Prohibition victory in Knox-
ville is thought by some papers to he
due to a revulsion of feeling against
the saloon rule of city politics rather
than to the conversion of voters to
total abstinence; and it is the convic-
tlon of this weighty organ of the
liquor trade that if the saloon busi-
ness throughout the country does not
in Pn( ] ways it will “be prohibited
in all places save the business or ten-
derloin precincts of our larger cities.”
So serious is the situation, indeed,
that last June the National Whole*
Eale Li( l" or dealers’ Association ia-
tne , saloon, a n pp and ®? 1f ® a r few *? weeks P™ ficatl0 ago % the 0 f
Kentucky Distillers’ Association ap-
pointed a commission of five to con-
sider the advisability of calling a na-
tional convention to frame a license
law that can be presented to the State
Legislatures in place of the “radical
f 11 ? 1 impracticable legislation now
beln£; ” rgpcb aml often successfully,
1)V the Anti-Saloon League. We quote
these striking paragraphs from the
end Spirit Circular:”
“With more lhan one-half of the
geographical limits of this great coun¬
try under laws prohibiting the sale
of alcoholic beverages; with Tennes¬
see passing through her Legislature
a bill that almost amounts to State
Prohibition; with the West Virginia
Legislature passing a measure to sub¬
mit the prohibition of the manufac¬
ture and sale of wines and spirits to
a vote of the people; with Texas pro¬
viding that express companies trans¬
porting wines and spirts shall take
out a $5000 license; with the Illinois
Legislature considering a county-unit
local-option measure, and Indiana a
SIOOO license for the few saloons that
the Remonstrance lav/ will leave in
that State; with Kentucky almost a
‘dry’ State and probably facing a leg¬
islative session that will submit a
prohibitory amendment; with an or¬
ganization opposing 11 s and sworn to
our destruction that seems to lack
nothing in the way of money or
brains, enthusiasm or persistent, un¬
tiring work—what, may we ask, is
the wine and spirit trade doing to ar¬
rest the current of events or to alter
in any way the radical conclusions
which are being forced upon the peo¬
ple in every State, county and pre-
cirrt?
“Tf there is one thing that seems
settled beyond question it is that the
retail liquor trade of this country
must either mend its ways materially
or be prohibited in all places save the
business or tenderloin precincts of
our larger cities.
“If the Anti-Saloon League can
maintain its present organization it
looks as if it will certainlv destroy
the le.gab'zed saloon in all of the
Southern States, excepting nerhans in
Missouri, and it is certainly making
strong headway in Indiana, Ohio, Illi¬
nois. Wisconsin, Minnesota and other
■Western and Northern States.”
Far from sneering at the Anti-Sa¬
loon League, the “Wine and Liquor
Circular” pays its respects thus:
“The Anti-Saloon League is not a
mob of long-haired fanatics, as some
of the writers and speakers connected
with our business have declared, but
it is a stronely centralized or jiniza-
tion, officered bv men of unusual abil¬
ity, financiered by capitalists with
very long purses, subscribed to by
hundreds of thousands of men. wo-
men and children who are solicited
by their various churches, advised by
well-paid attorneys of great ability,
and it is working with definite ideas
to guide it, in every State, in every
county, in every city, and in every
precinct.
"If the Anti-Saloon League is de¬
feated at any point it immediately
prepares for another attack along new
lines, and when it succeeds it at once
begins work for a more telling vic¬
tory.
“Precinct local option, with the
Anti-Saloon League, is but the fore¬
runner of county local option, and
this again is merely intended as a
stepping-stone to State Prohibition.
There is no question that this organi¬
zation has well-prepared plans for
controlling the legislative branch of
the government at Waaninston, and
of passing a national prohibitory law
at some time in the future; but before
it undertakes so gigantic an enter-
arise it is working to cripple the
trade in every possible way, and—
while we sleep—it is succeeding in
’be most substantial manner."—The
Literary Digest.
The Black Thing in Politics.
The late Senator Carmack, of Ten-
lessee, said: “I am weary of a.saloon
domination. T am weary of the ea¬
loon . g open alliaDCe wit .h vice, its
0 p en contempt of law’. I am xveary
n f a condition of things where the
man whose business it is to make the
laws must hold his office by consent
nf the man whose business it is to
preak the laws.”
Henry Watterson, editor of the
Louisville ! Courier-Journal says: 1
‘Every office, from the President’s
down, is handed out over the saloon
vonnter.”
When a judge is in favor of licenses
It does not take a great deal of evi¬
dence to convince him that a licensed
saloon is necessary.
The Saloons.
If the saloons were eliminated the
soe^l evil problem will he at least
ball solved.—Rev. C. F. Stevens,
christion, Spokane,
Temperance Notes.
The British Government has recog-
nlzed the coming world's Temperance
Congress at London to the extent of
transmitting through its diplomatic
representatives invitations to other
governments.
i (q| n was discovered in the sevefl-
t*'enth century, and England in fifty
years was drinking 7,000,000 gal-
Ions. Tavern keepers said: “Com®
ail< ^ drunk for twopence.
No charge for straw beds in cellar.”
—New York Press.
X,
The Strenuous Life.
A young girl of far Albuquerque,
A si 1 i red to he hired as a clurque;
But returned to her ma
As goon us she sa
Like everything eke, —Technical it was wurque!
World.
More Exciting.
“Women like masterful men.”
“Yes; it’s more fun to boss that
kind.”—Philadelphia Bulletin.
A Mean Thrust.
“Washington!” exclaimed the ora¬
tor. “First in war, first in peace—”
“And last in football,” interrupted)
a low wretch.—Louisville Courier-
Journal.
! Making Friends,
“Say something to the little boy,”
said Bobbie’s mother.
“Say, kid,” said Bobbie, obedi-
i ently, ““kin you fight yet?”—Buffalo
Express.
As to a Friend.
“He says there’s no such thing ae
luck.”
“That's because he’s never had
anything else.”—Louisville Courier-
Journal.
A Cruel Girl,
Said Cholly—“Speech is said to be
the means of concealing thought.”
Said Dolly—“Well, you have noth¬
ing to conceal.”—Louisville Courier-
Journal.
At the Tailor’s.
“And how shall I make your suit,
sir?”
“Make it as unlike those fashion
plates as possible.”—Louisville Cour-
ier-Journal.
More Than Likely.
“What Would you do if you had a
lot of money?”
“I s’pose I'd begin to worry about
how I’d get along if I hadn’t.”—Kan.
sas City Journal.
Discharged.
“They say Jones helps his wife
wash the dishes.”
“Used to; but he got foxy and
smashed a cut glass cream pitcher.”
—St. Paul Despatch.
On the Stage.
'*)>
i P
<r:
0
i
i
i 0
■;
1
He—“Did you know I had become
an actor”
She—“No. Ail I heard was that
you had gone on the stage.”—New¬
ark Call.
An Uphill Fight.
“Any parlor socialists at your
boarding house?”
“Yes; but they ain’t making much
headway against the dining room
czar.”—Washington Herald.
The Next.
“I understand you can buy a good
aeroplane for $4000.”
“Keep it dark. My wife will he
wanting one next to wear as a hat.”
•—Louisville Courier-Journal.
X
Had Him There.
“What are you .talking about? A
thing can't be a great help and a
great drawback at the same time.”
“I don’t know. How about a mus¬
tard plaster?”—Boston Transcript.
His Wise Plan.
“I never have no luck.”
“Neither do I,” responded the other
citizen. “Therefore I keep out of
enterprises requiring gobs of luck to
he a success.”—Louisville Courier-
Journal.
Taking Her Down.
“My ancestors came over in the
Mayflower,” said the haughty lady.
"Oh, yes,” rejoined Mrs. Cumrox,
O „h interest. “Mine didn’t. None of
1 /y family ever cared for those big
excursions. ”—Washington Star.
-j
A Hero's Reflections.
Achilles .mused.
“Strange,” he cried, “that my only
vulnerable spot is where I didn’t put
my foot in it.”
Here indeed w r as hope for blunder¬
ing humanity.—New York Sun.
What He Meant.
“Your novels will not endure,”
said the critic.
“I know it,” said the author.
“They are not literature,” said the
critic.
“Correct,” said the author.
“Well, then, what do you mean by
them?”
“Money,” said the author. “Wait¬
er, fetch me a porterhouse steak.''- -
Atlanta Constitution.