JUDGES
Judge Ben B. Lindsey of Denver, was lunching one day—it was a very hot day—when a politician paused beside his table "Judge," said he, "I see you're drinking coffee. That's a heating drink. In this weather you want to drink iced drinks, Judge—sharp iced drinks. Did you ever try gin and ginger ale?"
"No," said the Judge, smiling, "but I have tried several fellows who have."
Unfortunately we've mislaid the judge's name, but his courtroom is in New Bedford, Mass. Before him appeared a defendant who, hoping for leniency, pleaded, "Judge, I'm down and out."
Whereupon said the wise Judge:
"You're down, but you're not out. Six months."
The late Gilman Marston, of New Hampshire, was arguing a complicated case, and looked up authorities back to Julius Caesar. At the end of an hour and a half, in the most intricate part of his plea, he was pained to see what looked like inattention. It was as he had feared. The judge was unable to appreciate the nice points of his argument.
"Your Honor," he said, "I beg your pardon; but do you follow me?"
"I have so far," answered the judge, shifting wearily about in his chair, "but I'll say frankly that if I thought I could find my way back, I'd quit right here."
See also Lawyers.