A lawyer of the old school, who still carried his green bag into Court, and who never wearied of telling of his conflicts at the bar with Grundy, Holt, and Ben Hardin, in their palmiest days, was retained for the defence. His chief witness was Squire Barnhouse, who lived over on the "Rolling Fork." He was the magistrate for his precinct, deacon in the church, and the recognized oracle for the neighborhood. Upon direct examination, in the case at bar, he testified that "he knowed the defendant William Jenkins; had knowed him thirty year or more; knowed his father and mother afore him." Inquired of then as to the general reputation of the defendant, as to his being "a peaceable and law-abiding citizen," he was found to be all that could be reasonably desired.
Squire Barnhouse was then asked whether he was present at the Caney Fork muster, where it was alleged that the defendant had bitten off the ear of the prosecuting witness. It turned out that he was present. Further questioned as to whether he had paid particular attention to the fight, he replied that he did; that he "had never seed Billy in a fout before, and he had a kind of family pride in seein' how he would handle himself." Further questioned as to whether he saw the defendant bite off the ear of the prosecuting witness he replied, "No, sir, nothin' uv the kind, nothin' uv the kind." This was followed by the inquiry as to whether his opportunities were such that he would most probably have seen it, if it had occurred. "In course I would, in course I would," was the emphatic reply.
The witness was here turned over to the Commonwealth's attorney, who declined to cross-examine, and Squire Barnhouse was in the act of leaving the stand when in an evil hour it occurred to defendant's counsel to ask one question more.
"By the way, Squire, just one more question, just where you stand; now I understood you to say"—repeating the answers already given; "now just this question, did you see anything occur while the fight was going on, or after it was over, that would lead you to believe that this defendant had bitten off the ear of the prosecuting witness?"
The Squire, half down the witness stand, answered, "No, sir, nothing uv the kind," then, slowly and thoughtfully, "nothing uv the kind." A moment's pause. "Well, since you mention it, I do remember that just as Billy rizened up offen him the last time, I seed him spit out a piece of ear, but whose ear it was, I don't pertend to know."
CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
In the good County of Scotland, in the State of Missouri, back in the ante-bellum days there lived one Solomon Davis, whose chronic horror was card-playing. The evils of this life were in his judgment largely to be attributed to this terrible habit. It was his belief that if the Grand Jury would only take hold of the matter in the right spirit, a stop could be put to the "nefarious habit of card-playing, which was ruining the morals of so many young men in Scotland County." This was the burden of his discourse in and out of season. His ardent desire that he himself should be called on the Grand Jury to the accomplishment of the end mentioned was at length gratified. At a certain term of court he was not only summoned upon the Grand Jury, but duly appointed its foreman.
Upon the adjournment of court for dinner, immediately thereafter, one Ben Mason, the wit of the bar,—and not himself wholly unacquainted with the pastime that involved spades, kings, and even queens,— ardently congratulated the new foreman upon his appointment, assuring him that now his opportunity had come to put to an end, by the omnipotent power of the Grand Jury, "to the nefarious habit of card-playing which was ruining the morals of so many young men in Scotland County."
"And now, Squire," continued Ben, "I can give you the name of a gentleman who doesn't play himself, but is always around where playing is going on, and he can tell you who plays, where they play, how much is bet, and all about it."
Delighted at this apparently providential revelation, the Squire had a subpoena forthwith issued for the witness mentioned, one Ranzey Sniffle, a half-witted fellow who had never taken or expected to take a part in the game himself, but whose cup of happiness was full to the brim when, in return for punching up the fires, mixing the drinks, and snuffing the candle, he was permitted to see the play actually going on.