"Twenty-nine;—U.S.—No;—None;—Single—Yes;—No.—" All of which answers are properly recorded opposite the appropriate questions upon the indictment.
All this is a little startling to the juror who has rendered his first verdict. He has no idea at all of what is going on. The officer returns, if possible, a categorical reply to each question, but frequently prisoners make statements which are of course irrelevant in character and are not incorporated in the answer. At times it requires quite a little cross-examining on the part of the officer to determine whether or not the defendant is temperate or intemperate, or whether he has really ever been convicted of crime theretofore. Any one who could overhear these colloquies would be well repaid for his trouble. The writer knows of one officer of a somewhat waggish disposition who, when he approaches the interrogation directed towards the prisoner's usual habits, first puts the question in its proper form:
"Are you temperate or intemperate?"
The prisoner, who perhaps does not understand these terms, or, at any rate, is a little doubtful himself as to his usual condition, stammers and hesitates. The officer, dropping his voice, remarks, confidentially:
"Say, do you ever take a drink?"
"Sure," says the defendant, without hesitation.
"Moderate," shouts the officer to the clerk.
A certain element of humor enters into the situation when a defendant convicted of bigamy is asked if he is married. The answer "Yes" is generally accompanied by an irrepressible grin.
There used to be an old court officer in one of the parts of the General Sessions a few years ago who was a loyal son of Old Erin and a devout member of the Roman Church.
On one occasion, a defendant having been found guilty he was arraigned at the bar for the purpose of having his pedigree taken, old Flaherty officiating. The conversation which ensued may be worth preservation.