Atlanta Georgian. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, August 05, 1913, Image 3

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- 11 1 Mi™**™—*■ THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN ANT) NEWS 3 LD HYPOTHETICAL QUESTION STAGE IK FRANK’S TIL • By JAMES B. NEVIN. When a prospective juryman Is on his voir dire in a given criminal case, he is asked if his mind is perfectly impartial between the State and the accused. If he answers yes, he is competent to try the case, so far ns that Is con- corned. If he answers no, he is re jected. How many people in Atlanta and Georgia, having heard part of the testimony in the Frank case, still foel themselves to be perfectly impartial between the State and the accused? How many people, having heard part of the evidence, still have re frained from expressing an opinion as to the guilt or Innocence of Frank? Not many, I take It—and yet. that jury Jg supposed to be perfectly poised and as yet impartial between the State and the accused, notwith standing the State’s evidence thus far delivered, and the presumption of in nocence legally established in behalf of the defendant. I venture the opinion that nothing developing in the Frank trial last week so profoundly weighed upon the minds of the people over Sunday as the question of the digestibility of boiled cabbage—nice, greasy, pal atable, if often shunned, boiled cab bage! It is rather curious that of all the mass of matter brought out last week this point should have furnished the greatest amount of food for thought —food as difficult and as varied in its aspects of mental indigestlbillty as boiled cabbage Is in Its physical as pect! Everybody Has His Opinion. Everybody has his own private opinion as to the manner and meth ods whereby his, at least, stomach proceeds to the disposing and assim ilating of this not too aristocratic article of common, everyday con- Vimption. How many people In Atlanta Sun day forsook their usual Sababth day more or less elaborate program of diet in favor of plebeian program of boiled cabbage—Just to see what would happen, anyway? “Is your mind perfectly impartial between the State and the accused?” Perhaps an experiment with trolled cabbage may help you in arriving at a conclusion! Remember. In judging Frank from the State’s standpoint, there is noth ing so vitally important as the time element. If Mary Phagan were killed be tween 12:05 and the time Frank is admitted to have left hlv office— which narrows the limit sharply and definitely—then the State’s contention that Frank committed the deed may Dr may not be true. If she actually was killed after Frank left his office, of course the case against Frank falls to pieces entirely. Miss Monteen Stover swears that Frank was not, to the best of her knowledge and belief, in his office: from 12:05 to 12:10—and there are five minuter, if thq girl’s testimony is conclusive, in which Mary Phagan’s death might have been effected. Defense to Dispute Claim. The defense, to be sure, has sought to show, and will seek to show even more definitely yet, that, while Miss Stover may not have seen Frank in his private office, which is detached from the main office, he rtill might have been there, because of the ar rangement of the two rooms and the furniture therein. But if the jury accept Miss Sto ver’s testimony as conclusive, and agrees that Frank was NOT in his office at the time stated, and in spite of the fact that Frank has stated, and presumably will state again, that he WAS in his office at that time, then Frank’s full opportunity to have slain the girl will have been estab lished. In addition to this established fact —if it b e established in the minds of the jury—will be the further testi mony of Dr. Roy Harris to the ef fect that Mary must have been dead at least not later than 12:30, and maybe earlier, as disclosed to Dr. Harris’ satisfaction by the contents of her stomach, examined carefully after her death. It looks as if the very heart and soul of the State's case against Frank, in so far as its entirely the oretical and circumstantial side is concerned, revolves very much about the question of how long boiled cab bage may have been in process of digestion in Mary Phagan’s stomach on the day she was killed. Trivial Thing Controls. It is rather a strange thing that in so many cases depending alone upon circumstantial evidence to sus tain them, unexpected and seeming ly inconsequential things should eventually control. When the Frank trial began, if there was any one thing entirely re mote from the mir.ds and opinions of the people—the judge and the Jury men Included—it was, I suspect, boiled cabbage! The lawyers for the State, of course, knew what Dr. Harris was going to testify—but beyond them, nobody else knew. When, as the case developed In its preliminary and before trial stages, the newspapers were digging daily j in this and that direction for new lines of thought, for new circum stances and suggestions calculated to throw light on the great mystery of Mary Phagan’s untimely and most distressing death, when constantly it was being hinted that either the State or the defense had “something big and sensational up Its sleeve, yet to come,” who thought of boiled cab bage? I confejs unblushingly and with no reservations or evasions of mind in me whatever that I never did—not once! And neither did you, reader! And yet, there has been nothing developed by the State, in the cir cumstantial evidence, not including Conley, thus far one-half so sensational as its point about boiled cabbage—nothing that the de fense so surely and so completely must break down and annihilate! Clash Over Boiled Cabbage. Upon the yet mooted points of the digestibility of boiled cabbage, in the average stomach, in Mary Phagan’s stomach, in the weak stomach, in the strong stomach, in the thus equipped stomach and the otherwise, equipped stomach—plainly one may anticipate a long, bitter, and badly befuddling battle between experts pro and con as to boiled cabbage inside the hu man physical make-up. I suspect the Frank case now Is getting to that stage wheretn the J hypothetical question will figure se riously and menacingly. Already, of course, hypothetical questions have been asked, on both sides, but It is doubtful whether the case really has quite progressed to that point wherein the real hypo thetical question should be expected to make Its appearance. But it is very near. In the famous trial of Harry Thaw, when there was no question what ever of who killed Stanford White., the hypothetical questions asked of the experts often ran into the thou sands of words. Indeed, one question was asked, if I remember correctly, that contained over five thousand words. If the lawyers in the Frank case get to handing those sort of queries around—and both sides likely will plunge heavily into the hypothetical question pool, the water being fine or not as they individually may vie*' It— the Frank case likely will get so very complex that ordinary folks will find it extremely hard to follow *ts movements. Jury to Bear Burden. The Jury, being on its oath fair and impartial, will undertake, of course, to get its mind exactly right on the questions of boiled cabbage. A human life, an erstwhile happy home, a wife’s all and everything, a mother’s love and confidence, a man’s dearest honor, and the sympathy and Royalty of hundreds of devoted friends —these all are depending, in large measure, upon what the jury in the Frank case finally will conclude ;n respect of the digestibility of boiled cabbage! If it were not such a serious mas ter—such a very, very serious matter —one might almost be tempted to smile grimly to himself, that so much should depend upon seemingly so commonplace thing as boiled cab bage. It would be a frightful thing to send a man to the gallows upon an incorrectly diagnosed condition of the alimentary canal, dependent entirely upon boiled cabbage, and yet it would be equally as frightful and unfor tunate if Justice should gravely mis carry and responsibility for little Mary Phagan’s death fail to be fixed righteously, because the Jury missed the vital controlling point in respect of boiled cabbage. It is upon trifles light as air—not that boiled cabbage ever sat that lightly on human stomach—-that grave issues often turn; and thus not infre quently Is the “native hue of resolution sicklied o’er with the palo cast of thought,” as Hamlet says. Has Jury Tried Experiment? Was the Jury progressing satisfac torily toward the acquittal of Frank— or unsatisfactorily, as the case may be—when it ran afoul of boiled cab bage, that to give it serious pause? And would it be right or wrong, proper or improper, now to feed the jury one meal of boiled cabbage, thus to let it see by personal experience what becomes of that article of diet, once it Is introduced into the human stomach? Would that be dangerous to the State, in that it might breed a variety of opinion in the minds of the Jury sure to produce, at least, a mistrial, or an acquittal—or would it so shatter all doubt in the jury’s mind as to pro duce conviction? Has rhe Frank Jury Inadvertently been fed some boiled cabbage al ready, and did every Juryman partake thereof—and if so, will that, in either event, be grounds for a new trial? Far be It from me even to guess, so hard is the battle for and against Leo Frank being fought! COUNSEL FOR THE STATE OF GEORGIA IN THE PROSECUTION OF LEO FRANK Frank A. Hooper, specially en gaged for the State. Hugh Dorsey who has borne brant of the work. E. A. Stephens, Assistant to Solicitor Dorsey. Envy Not the Juror! His Lot, Mostly, Is Monotony By L. F. WOODRUFF. A policeman’s Ilf© is not a merrv one. The thought was expressed and event set to music in those dim days of the distant past when people heard the lyrics and listened to the charm ing lilts of Gilbert and Sullivan opera Instead of centering their attentions on a winsome young woman with a record in the divorce courts and not much else in either ability or raiment. Gilbert and Sullivan, now being tradition, can be considered authori ties. Wherefore the thought is re peated that a policeman’s life Is not a merry one. But there are twelve Fulton county men who will say that he went too far in his statement In one way and didn’t come within a mile of ap proaching the mark in another. For after the sergeant sings “a po liceman’s life is not a merry one,” the chorus of constabulary cants, “ta ran ta ra, ta ran ta ra," which sounds rather Joyous. The Jurors Dissent. And the Jurors with whom the fate of Leo Frank rests believe there is no more Joy in the work which is imposed as part of their duty as citi zens of Fulton County than there i» in a crutch to a man unaccustomed to using that method of transportation. They would like to be included In the category of those persons whose existence if* as far removed from the paths of primrose as pole is from pole, but they would voice violent protest against any ta ran ta ra’e There is much Justice in their po sition and their claims to a place high on the list of martyrs to the sacred cause of duty. An English humorist wrote of a young man who kept a diary and abandoned the pursuit when for three days this entry was repeated: “Got up. washed, w’ent to bed.” He rea sonably figured that his existence wan entirely too colorless to necessitate recording. Mostly Monotony, Their Days. The members of the Frank Jury are In much the same position. They merely get up, wash and go to bed, with Just the added duty of sitting through hour after hour of legal bat tling that has only its brief periods of Interest. They are as securely cut off from the rest of the world as they would be were they locked in Ful ton County’s Tower, and for this they are paid by the State of Georgia the munificent sum of $2 a day, that does not go far toward the purchase of the family corn meal and cabbage in these days when certain persons find it hard to live on a salary of $12,000 a year. Here’s about the dally routine of the men whose duty It Is to decide the most perplexing mystery that has ever confronted the law enforcing powers of the city of Atlanta. They are quartered together In the Kimball House, and they are guarded as closely from the Intrusion of out siders as the foulest felon in a Geor gia convict camp. They all ariee about 7 o’clock, ftfr they have to dine together, and there is no necessity of one’s awakening before the last. They are shackled together by the orders of the court as firmly as if a convict chain was fastened on the wrist of each. They eat their meals at the Ger man Cafe, in Pryor street. The coun ty does not stint them. Judge Roan has given orders that they be given every reasonable luxury. On their way to their meals they are under close guard. A deputy leads them. A deputy acts as a rear guard. Deputies flank them on either side. Their One Dissipation. After breakfast they are allowed to take a walk—still under guard. This walk is their most rakish amune- ment. And or this walk they are taken up back streets, where they can see nobody and nobody can see them. Imagine an Atlantan of this good year of 1913 getting his amuse ment strolling through a section an Interesting as a glans of stale water the morning after, and always con scious that If a friend should happen to say “hello,” he would be under dire suspicion of having arranged a secret code in which “hello” meant any thing from “$200,000 if you acquit” or “your wife will quit you if you acquit.” After this stroll they wend their way to the courtroom. They are seated before the spectators enter. The court orders all the spectators to remain seated until they file out at recess. The courtroom is not the most pleasant summer resort In the world. Atlanta has been in the throes of a hot spell constantly since the open ing of the trial, a.id then hundreds of humans are packed in a »pace where only scores should be. The re sult is that the ventilation of the courtroom is bad. The atmosphere is oppressive. Still the Jurors seem to be bearing the ordeal bravely. There is always a look of relief on their faces when the court orders recess. As the audiences sits, their guard of deputies forms and they file out, straight to the restaurant. When the noonday meal Is concluded, there is a chance for brief relaxation. The Ju rors make most of it. The same performance is gone through with in the afternoon. When adjournment for the day is taken, the members of the panel are taken to the hotel, where they bathe and don clean linen. Then they are either taken out for a walk or allowed to postpone that pleasure until after their supper. Bed Is the Exciting Climax. When bedtime comes they are usu ally fairly well ready for the mat tress. That is their day, and there is a reward of $2 for those services com ing to them at the end of the trial, whenever that Is "What are their amusements?” Chief Deputy Plennie Minor, who Is one of their most zealous guardians, was asked. Minor smiled. “I don't know that they have any. They talk among themselves, but they' are not allowed to read any newspaper, by strict or der of the court. A few carefully- censored magazines were doled out to them for Sunday recreation. “They smoke a good deal: and. well, they talk pretty much all the time. “No one is allowed to communicate with them in any way. Every letter they receive has to be Inspected by someone from our office before the Juror can read it,” he said. Aarcordingly, the Jurors get few letters, even though they are married men as a rule. A wife would hardly Frank Witness Nearly Killed By a Mad DoS Deputy Sheriff W. W. (“Boots”) Rogers, witness for the State in the Frank trial, Is taking the Pasteur treatment at the State Capitol Mon day after being bitten half a dozen times on the right ankle by a rabid dog that pulled him from his motor cycle at Henderson’s crossing, on Capitol avenue, Sunday night about 11 o'clock. After a battle of more than fifteen minutes Rogers finally drove the dog away, and though his right leg was badly torn and lacerated, rode the two miles from the crossing to Grady Hospital. When he arrived at the hospital his leg had begun to turn black and was very painful. Treated at Grady Hospital. The Grady Hospital surgeons cau terized the wounds and gave him tem porary relief. This morning the leg which the dog had gnawed was still swollen and painful, and Rogers de cided to take the Pasteur treatment. The dog was a big shepherd and attacked Rqgers just ks the officer was crossing the railroad tracks. *T noticed the dog running along the side of the road several minutes before he bit me.” said Rogers Mon day morning, “but I had no idea he was mad. As I passed under the arc light at the crossing I heard a growl right behind ine, and before I could turn I felt the fangs of the dog sink ing into my right ankle. Pulled From Motorcycle. “I tried to kick him off and tried Wife and Mother of the Accused Pencil Factory Superintendent Sit Calmly Through Trial. to get my revolver from its holster. My coat was buttoned and before I could reach my gun the dog had pulled me from my motorcycle. As I fell to the ground the dog let go of my log and leaped at my throat, and I struck him in the muzzle with my fist Just in time to save myself. “Before I could get up the dog L grabbed my leg again, and we rolled in the dirt for several moments, the dog trying to get at my throat. At length I regained my feet, with the dog hanging on to my leg and biting and gnawing. The froth streamed from his mouth and ran down my leg. I grabbed the brute by the throat with my hands, but could not shake him loose. Too Weak to Kill Animal. "Then I began kicking at him with my other foot, all the’time trying to get my gun. The revolver had caught on my coat and I could not draw It. After about fifteen minutes of the hardest work I ever did in my life I managed to kick the dog loose from my leg, and he ran. I was so weak after the fight that I couldn’t draw my gun and failed to get a shot at the brute.” Rogers was forced to lie In the road several minutes before he had strength enough to drag himself to his motorcycle. He finally reached his machine and started the motor, and then with blood streaming from his wounds rode to Grady Hospital. He was barely able to drag himself into the office when he got there. like to have a deputy peruse the inti mate secrets of family life, nor be made familiar with the pet names re served alone for her husband. “Even their linen is examined to see that there is no note of communi cation Is enclosed.” said Miner. These precautions are absolutely necessary They are as necessary for the protection of the Juror os they are to the assurance of a fair and honest trial. The court is not trying to be severe. It is simply trying to preserve the in tegrity of the laws of Georgia. Small wonder then that there arc men who seek to evade Jury duty by failing to qualify as an elector, who hide their name* from the directory compilers, w'ho serve In the militia to escape possibility of having to do the work that these twelve men are doing. There is absolutely nothing to make the work one to relish. The judge, the lawyers, the detectives, the wit nesses, all are more or less in the coveted spotlight. It Ip doubtful if there is a man in Atlanta not inti mately connected with the case who could name the twelve men on the Jury. They are not professional jurors, who seek the $2 a day because they are incapable of making that much money as easily in any other way. They are doing this work with a sense of duty to their city, county and State. Their reward must be only a realization of a duty well done. Small wonder they do not class their lives a* merry ones. Small won der that they wish no ta ran ta ra’s. By TARLETON COLLIER. Women are brought into a court room, as all the. world knows, for one of two purposes. Their presence may have a moral effect in softening the heart of a Juror, particularly if they be young, pretty or wistful of counte nance. Or they may be there on the affectionate mission of cheering and encouraging a beloved defendant. Two women sat with Leo Prank through the hot, weary days of last week. Their object was the one or the other. Which? A study of these women was the answer. Everybody studied them. Everybody knew that love and trust Inspired them. "Whether Frank be Innocent or guilty, to his credit be it said that he is loved by the women clo**est to him. His mother was one of the two, a woman on whose face was written plainly the story of a life in which there was much of grief, much of the tenderest Joy, much of loving and be ing loved. Tragedy in Mother’s Face. Her eyes were sad. Her featured never lost their tragic composure. But it was plain that smiles had come often to her in the course of her life. The face Is* common to mothers. The other woman was his wl’fe, a robust, wholesome young woman. Her face was the piacid face of one whose life has been pleasant. No un happy event had come to mar a single feature. None of the troubles that had been the mother’s had come to her. until this calamity. If the younger Mrs. Frank were not so plainly the sane, rational young woman that she if, you would say that she should be overcome by the cir cumstances of the accusation and trial of her husband. She impresses you as being very young, indeed. But she is too wholesome of mind and body. You see that, as you study her. She is reserved, too, in a sort of proud w’ay. It is not a natural pride, but a glory in her love for the man on whose chair her arm rests, day after day of-the trial. This proud reserve is the mother’s, too. These women do nctf laugh at the not Infrequent ludicrous incidents that arise. They do not smile, ex cept when the man at whose side they sit smiles into their eyes. Neither do they cry. It is this reserve that supported them through the ordeal that came Friday and Saturday. Two physici ans were on the stand, and the things they told was not lit for casual con versation. Other women left the room. Womanly Reserve—and Ugly Words. But the two had come to be with Leo Frank. Through all the ghastly, sordid revelations they sat, armed with this quality of womanly reserve. The face of the younger woman quivered at times, involuntarily. But for most of the time the two sat unmoved, as if unconscious that hun dreds of curious mas< ullne eyes win on them, after the unsparing way of masculine eyef, to see how the ugly words affected them. Through it all the women looked straight ahead, as if seeing nothing. The arm of Mrs Frank, the wife, rested on the back of her husband’s chair, encircling his shoulders and lightly touching them. Now and then the hand pressed his arm as a par ticularly revolting bit was uttered. It was a sublimo courage and re serve. You knew then that the presence of these two women in the court room was not for its effect on the jury, not for affectation, but for the encour agement of the man who is on trial for his life. These are not women, is your con clusion. to sit in company with an ac. cused man for policy’s sake. You would find your conviction deepened could you see this mother and thle wife with FYank in the ante room of the court during recesses They arc not demonstrative during the trial. There is a smile now’ and then, for a bare second, and nothing more. The Reserve Is Broken. But when recess is taken, and the court room is cleared, and the prison er and his wife end mother are to gether in the little room at the side, the *e breaks. The wife kisses her hi and, freely, tenderly. Then the mother After that they part, he goes to jail, and they await the call of court. When the trial begins, they usually are in their chairs waiting for him. He enters with the deputy, to be greeted by a smile or merely a look from them They are a reserved peo ple, these Franks. And it is all very plain why these women come to court, and sit by the side of the man who is on trial. Not for effect, surely. Opportunities Neglected Are Lost There is no use talking about that housej»r lot you DID NOT buy yesterday. That particular opportunity to make money has been lost. Don’t miss another. The Georgian “WANT AD" columns are alive with good Real Estate bargains at all times. Read them.