He: “Now, that hain’t the question! The question is whether you’ve ever hit me.”
She: “Yes, I have—when you were trying to hold me. It was the other girls called you names. I only called you names once.”
He: “I want to know whether I hurt you any when you hollered out that way?”
She: “Yes, you did. And if I hadn’t screamed you would have done it. I don’t suppose you’d have hurt me a great deal, but you have hurt some of the girls.”
The Judge: “Did he bruise you severely when he struck you?”
She, with a relenting glance, full of soft compassion, at her enemy: “Well, he didn’t bruise me very much.”
The Judge: “Has he been in the habit of assaulting the other young girls?”
She: “He never did me before.” Then, with a sudden burst, “And I think I was every bit as much to blame as he was! I had no business to tease him.”
Here the judge, instead of joining the hands of these children, and sending them forward with his blessing, to dance and sing a little duet together, as would have happened on any other stage, said that he would fine the defendant seven dollars. The defendant gave way to a burst of grief, and the plaintiff, astonished at this untoward conclusion, threw the judge a pathetic and reproachful look, and left the stand in painful bewilderment. I felt sorry for her, but I could not share her pity for the defendant, and my light mind was quickly distracted by the next piece.