“I WANT MY HORSE.”
She was sent to the court-room, where, I believe, the thief was speedily tried and convicted. But day after day she came to the grand jury room, and patiently waited outside for the return of her horse. Each morning some one would explain to her that we could do nothing, and she would then go away. But the next morning she would be there as usual, and for nearly a month she continued her patient but hopeless watching. Sometimes she would come twice in the same day, and, when accosted, her answer was always the same, “I want my horse.” At first her visits were subjects of merriment, but it was very soon discovered that her mind could not be altogether clear; and our merriment was changed to pity, and our jests to words of sympathy for her loss.
Most of the witnesses were of the unattractive lot, and as their stories were much alike, the business became a little dull after the first week or two. Robberies and fights, and fights and robberies, were narrated until the atmosphere became charged with them. It was the same story, or the same stories with slight variation, and we used to wish for a little variety. And it was astonishing how the advent of a pretty woman used to refresh the wearied jurors, but they were not often allowed that luxury.
A PRETTY WOMAN AS WITNESS.
One afternoon we came to a case of robbery, and the name of the first witness had a feminine sound as the clerk read it. Jurors had been sitting, not quite at their ease, listening to the testimony of men and women whose stories were as devoid of sentiment as the certificate of a steamboat inspector, and whose forms and faces were as unattractive as a dredging machine. When the witness was called in this case, the jurors listlessly raised their eyebrows, and out of deference to their acquired habit, turned their eyes towards the door. She came; we saw; she conquered. She was pretty; she was finely attired; her demeanor was full of modesty, and, at the same time, of self-possession. As she walked forward to the foreman’s place, to be sworn, there was a general straightening of everybody around the room. Chairs were drawn nearer to the table, young jurors stroked their mustaches, and old ones passed their hands over their bald crowns, to be sure that no cobwebs lay there. Collars and neckties were examined, to ascertain if en règle, and when the lady walked to the witness chair, the double line of heads was as straight and attentive as though just from the discipline of a Russian drill-master. When the foreman questioned her, she answered in a voice as silvery as a chime of tea bells, and it seemed very unfortunate for all her listeners that her story was brief. Not a word that she spoke was lost to any of the forty ears that were inclined towards her, and when she turned upon us a pair of bewitching eyes (I forget their color), there could be no doubt that the unwashed and unlettered burglar against whom she complained deserved the severest penalty of the law. As she left the room, her silken dress rustling like the leaves of autumn in a gentle breeze, we regretted that she could not longer remain; and when the door closed, an impressible juror sitting near it moved a bill of indictment, which would have been carried without opposition, had there been no necessity for another witness to complete the chain of evidence. The officer who captured the thief and recovered the property was then called; but he was a commonplace fellow, and we only listened to his story in the cause of justice. Compared with the lady who preceded him, he was as a marine turtle to a gazelle, or as a mud-scow to a yacht, and we were heartily glad when he was through with his testimony. If burglars would be free, they should never be caught robbing a pretty woman who can go before a grand jury. That fellow received the heaviest sentence allowed by the law, as she went before the petit jury, and told her story under the eye of the judge.
LXIX.
BORROWING AND BORROWERS.
HOW THE BUSINESS IS PROSECUTED IN NEW YORK.—THE NUMBER OF BORROWERS.—THEIR DIVISIONS AND SUBDIVISIONS.—HOW THEY OPERATE.—THE STORIES THEY TELL.—THEIR ENERGY.—ABILITY TO READ CHARACTER.—SUFFERINGS OF THEIR VICTIMS.—FRAUDS UPON HORACE GREELEY.—DEVICES TO AVOID THESE SWINDLERS.—ANNUAL AMOUNT OF THEIR SWINDLES.—HOW A MAN CUTS HIS EYE TEETH.