Читать книгу Lincolniana; Or, The Humors of Uncle Abe - Andrew Adderup - Страница 17

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Judge David Davis of Bloomington, Illinois, who was recently appointed (by Uncle Abe) to a position on the bench of the Supreme Court of the United States, is known to many of his friends as one of the best hearted men in the world. His, is withal, full of the piety of good humor. I call it "piety," because I think a smiling face is a perpetual thanksgiving to God. His benevolence, however, edges down his wit, and gives it more the characteristic of humor, strictly speaking. This, while it may have helped that "belly with fat capon lined," has kept him at peace with himself and the world.

On one occasion, while Judge Davis was presiding at the Logan County Circuit Court, a case came up that involved a question of postal law. Uncle Abe was on the case, and politely loaned Judge D. a small manual of postal law, that he might see for himself what the letter of the law was. The Judge gave his understanding of the law, but had hardly finished when Mr. S———s, a burley farmer from Clear Creek, jumped up and sang out—

"I reckon that ain't so, Judge. I've been Post-Master more'n a dozen years, and I reckon I ought to know what's Post Office law."

Of course Judge Davis had every right to fine the man for contempt, but he had a different way of treating such cases. "With a tone in which sarcasm only slightly blended, he said:

"Truly, I think you ought, Mr. S———s. It has never been my privilege to be a Post-Master, and I would like your opinion in this case. Please step this way."

The Judge moved over and made room on the bench, which Mr. S———s occupied, and proceeded to give his opinion on the mooted question. The bar sat smiling in expectation.

"Keep your seat, Mr. S———s, while I speak a word with my friend Parks."

Uncle Abe it was who had been interrupted, so he resumed:

"May it please the Court, I had some doubt on this point myself, so I borrowed the usual manual of Postal Law, to be perfectly assured. I regret to contend that the clear letter of the law conflicts—sadly conflicts—with the view just taken by Judge S———s;" but here the bar indulged in a quiet "smile" without a stick in it, and it just popped into Mr. S———'s head, that he was out of place, and he skedaddled in haste.

"The largest pussie Judge that sat on our bench," remarked Will Wyatt. From that day to this, Mr. S———s, has never lost the title he so suddenly gained.