How little do they see what is, who frame
  Their hasty judgment upon that which seems.

  —­Southey.

  Judgment is forced upon us by experience.

  —­Johnson.

JURY

Fresh from Boston, the lawyer in the frontier town had just finished a glowing summing up for the defense.  There ensued a long pause, and the Easterner turned in some embarrassment to the judge.

“Your Honor,” he asked, “will you charge the jury?”

“Oh, no, I guess not,” answered the judge benignantly.

“They ain’t got much anyway, so I let them keep all they can make on the side.”

The jury filed into the jury-box, and after the twelve seats were filled there still remained one juror standing outside.

“If the Court please,” said the Clerk, “they have made a mistake and sent us thirteen jurors instead of twelve.  What do you want to do with this extra one?”

“What is your name?” asked the judge of the extra man.

“Joseph A. Braines,” he replied.

“Mr. Clerk,” said the judge, “take this man back to the jury commissioners and tell them we don’t need him as we already have twelve men without Braines.”

A suit for damages was being tried not long ago in one of the divisions of a Southern city court.  A country lad, seventeen or eighteen years of age, was put on the stand to testify.  He gave his testimony in so low a tone that the judge, pointing to the jury, said to him: 

“Speak so that these gentlemen can hear you.”

“Why,” said the witness, with a beaming smile, “are these men interested in the case, too?”

“Judge, Your Honor,” cried the prisoner at the bar, “have I got to be tried by a lady jury?”

“Be still!” whispered his attorney.

“I won’t be still!  Judge, I can’t even fool my own wife, let alone twelve strange women.  I’m guilty!”

In western Georgia a jury recently met to inquire into a case of suicide.  After sitting through the evidence, the twelve men retired, and, after deliberating, returned with the following verdict: 

“The jury are all of one mind—­temporarily insane.”

THE JUDGE (to jury, who have retired several times without agreeing)—­“I understand that one juryman prevents your coming to a verdict.  In my summing up I have clearly stated the law, and any juryman who obstinately sets his individual opinion against the remaining eleven is totally unfitted for his duties.”

THE SOLITARY OBJECTOR—­“Please, m’lud, I’m the only man who agrees with you!”

A Time Exposure

A judge’s little daughter, who had attended her father’s court for the first time, was very much interested in the proceedings.  After her return home she told her mother: 

“Papa made a speech, and several other men made speeches to twelve men who sat all together, and then these twelve men were put in a dark room to be developed.”