MAGIC CARPET

NZ Truth, Issue 1168, 19 April 1928, Page 6

MAGIC CARPET

+ Introducing Trial By Sunshine !

(From "N.Z. Truth's" Auckland Rep.) Weather forecast: "Wind moderate — northeast by east; fine weather expected to continue; baro; meter rising; eto," TN the ordinary course of events the weather forecast has little or no connection iwith auch widely-read topics as police court news. Yet, m Auckland, there is every indication — so far as Magistrate Cutten iB concerned — of the meteorological conditions having some influence on the administration of Justice. Hitherto— hail, rain, sunshine or snow— Bill Sykes and< Dipper Dave have had nothing to "fear or hope" from the elements. But now, m view of certain remarks by Magistrate Cutten, it may pay the criminally-inclined to make a close perusal of the weather reports before deciding: to break away from the narrow path. "It is a pity to lock you up this beautiful weather," condoled his worship as two prisoners passed from the dock to take up residence at Mt. Eden gaol. What's this? Some new note of magisterial music on the humanist's harp? We have known atmospherical vicissitudes to upset the delicate scales of a pharmacy, but the scales of Justice . . . ! After all, "It is an ill iwind, etc.," so somebody must profit .by the S.M.s sympathetic whispers. It is certainly a broad hint to members of crookdom to adopt some such axiom as: "Make hay while the sun shines." Even "the better the day the better the deed," and similar dicta, if applied to the weather, can now show a potent significance to a ' crook's means of livelihood. Even if the police should assert opposite views, the prisoner knows that with the rising sun there awakes m the breast of at least one magistrate a passionate reluctance to overcast a fellow -mortal's path of sunshine with the clouds of relegation — rthough it may be otherwise shaded by crime. OUTLOOK— DULL Imagine Drunken Dan, bleary eyes peering anxiously up into the face of the watch-house sergeant: "What's th' weather like, sarg?" . . Who dyer think'll be on th 1 bench?" Perhaps it is not out of the way to suggest that terms of imprisonment might be graded to suit Magistrate Cutten's temperamental outlook. Tabulated m this fashion: — Arrested m sunshine— 24 hours (ordinary); 24 hours' sunshine — three days (ordinary) ; and so forth. ( Or even, if the summer weather still persisted, sentences could be held over until the winter. In fact, rwhy not open the courthouse only on wet daya? This would allow 'the staff to take full advantage .of the nearby park for plenty of sunbathing. As the idea "caught on" and became better known to our criminals, no doubt a mutual agreement could bo arrived at, whereby crimes — unless of a very urgent nature — might be postponed during summer months, thus allowing the gaol staff to take relay trips to the beaches. And Magistrate Cutten is not alone m this panton\ine policy. Not by a long way. Chief-detective Hammond took the role of "fairy godfather" to an English youth — an assisted immigrant, four days m New Zealand — who appeared the other day on a charge of theft. HAMMOND'S WAND Of course, it is next to impossible to visualize the chief detective bedecked m star-garlanded flimsies, replete with wand, but so far as the speaking part was concerned he took his cue well. With a finely-tuned sense of the fitness of things, and that feeling of kindliness towards his fellow-man — whether midnight drunk or burly burglar — Chief Detective Hammond's hy-per-sensitive nature revolted at the thought of keeping the new-chum youth, if only for a few days, m the vast loneliness of the remand yard at Mt. Eden. "It's a lonely job," he said, feelingly, when replying to Magistrate Cutten's suggestion that the pri--1 soner be kept on remand to allow of inquiries to be made. "He'd be kept on his own at the gaol, if on remand." There stepped into the awful breach an officer of the Salvation Army and on his shoulders rested the duty of caring for the youth who had been favored by a touch of the court's magic wand. "I have no means of keeping him there or to prevent him from wandering away," spake the man of the "Blood and Fire" battalion. "He'll be safe enough," observed the chief detective. "Why! He'd get lost if he wandered into the city." Obviously thinking of the ancient adage: "There is no solitude like the solitude of a city," Chief Detective Hammond possibly overlooked the fact that the youthful accused might have been fresh from the greatest city m the world!