IRISH STORIES

Taranaki Daily News, 17 March 1928, Page 7

IRISH STORIES

A DELIGHTFUL COLLECTION JUSTICE AND HUMOUR. A JUROR AND HIS CHALLENGE. There are many good stories in Sergeant A. M. Sullivan’s reminiscenes under the title “Old Ireland: liecollections of an Irish K.C.” He is the son of the late A. M. Sullivan who >vas an Irish member of the British House of Common, in the stirring days when Parnell was the Irish leader. At the age of 21 the author of these recollection was called to the Irish bar, and thereupon “entered upon the happiest career that was open to an Irishman.” His practice had been almost entirely confined to the Irish courts, and, judging from the lively nature of his reminiscences, the administration of justice in Ireland was tempered with a great deal of humour. “Challenging a jury,” he states, “was a matter of the gravest importance in a country where an open mind w’ould bi regarded as less than no mind it ail. In England the forensic battle beg’ns when a jury is sworn; in Ireland it was then over, especially in criminal cases. When a small boy I was at a session in Killarney, at which a gentleman charged with assault undertook his own defence. In the course of swearing a jury the clerk of the Crown called. ‘Patrick Moriarity.’ ” “Challenge," said the traverser, “k it me, Mike?” said the juror. “Challenge!” “But you’re not going to challenge me?” “Challenge 1 ” “But Mike —sure, I’m for you.” “Stand by!” shouted the Crown Solici. tor. ' SHE KNEW ALL THE QUIBBLES. The crazy litigant is to be found in all countries, but Ireland apparently produces types of her own. Sergeant Sullivan recalls a Miss Anthony, of whom he says, “No Irish paper dared to announce her death, for fear she should rise from the grave and sue for libel.” "She knew all the wretched quibbles of technical law, that no one should ever ' have known,” continues Sergeant Sullivan. “She knew the limitations of the right of a ticket checker to assault or restrain a defaulting passenger, and for years she traielled free on every line, as every ticket checker and inspector was drilled to ignore her.” She attended a Catholic retr t at Mount Melleray and all the others present were greatly edified by her devotion. “When the time came to depart,” writes Sergeant Sullivan, “sh- interviewed the simple abbot, Father Paul, and confided to him that she was ' ort of cash, and desired a loan of ten shillings or a ) ">und for a few days, adding that her servant had driven iip a couple of fat sheep of much greater value, that might be retained by the holy man u.itil the loan was repaid. He fell into the trap, lent the money, took the sheep, and gave the lady a memorandum of the transaction. In a few days the poor abbot,was served by his penitent with a writ to recover, under an old Irish statute, a penalty of £lOO, ‘for that he, not being a licensed pawnbroker, did take a chattel in pledge.’ But, fortunately, the lady made a slip in her legal procedure, and was refused leave to amend.” “I remember another litigant,” states the author, “who sued the Great Southern Railway Co. " the Tralee Assizes for damages, sustained by slipping on the platform when she was running for a train. The company proved that this was the. fourth accident for which they had been asked to pay this plaintiff—• and on the last occasion she had recovered thousands on the basis of total and permanent paralysis.”

STORIES OF THE JUDICIAL BENCH. Sergeant Sullivan tells many interesting stories about occupants of the judicial bench. Sir Peter O’Brien, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, who was generally referred to in legal circles as “Pether,” was a susceptible man, and, according to Sergeant Sullivan, was easily influenced by a pretty face. “He treated a . etty girl as conclusive or nearly conclusive evidence in favour of the party whose witness she might be, and on one occasion when he was compelled to decide in’favour of a client of mine, against whom two charming but irrelevant beauti i had been paraded, he actually suggested -that money that had been lodged in court by my client should be divided between these young ladies, and he was very indignant when I objected. In the County of Limerick there used to practise a native genius, who had he come earlier to the -bar, would have made a lasting name. He had, however, spe-t a long life as a village school master before he joined our circuit. ‘Pether’ loved him, and he played tip to ‘Pether’ with consummate ability. In a hopeless case at one assizes, he put into the witness box as his last reserve a supremely pretty girl. ‘Pether’ beamed upon her, but catching the eye of a cynical bystander his Lordship somewhat quailed. ‘Mr. Kelly,’ he said, ‘Mr. Kelly, this will not do. This will not. do, Mr. Kelly. I don’t mind admitting that there mav have been occasions when testimony of this kind might have affected me, but that is a long time ago, Mr. Kelly. lam now an extinct volcano.’ ”

This was supremely disconcerting to Paddy Kelly, who found no ready reply to make; but he noticed that “Pether,” notwithstanding the protest, had commenced to ogle the girl; and the more she blushed, the more ardent “Pether” showed himself. “I dinaw, me Lord,” said Paddy in his broad brogue, “but there might be a few rumbles in the old crater yit.”

Of Sir William Johnson, a judge of the King's Bench Division, Sergeant Sullivan writes:—“Johnson was a monument of kindness and stupidity. He was universally known as Wooden-headed Billy. One morning he came into the divisional court with his hand bandaged. ‘My dear Johnson,’ exclaimed the Chief Baron, ‘what has happened to yuo? Nothing serious, I trust.’ “'ll, no, thank you,’ readied the judge. ‘Very inful, out not. serious. Merely a splinter under my finger nail.’ “‘He’s been scratching his head,’ aubidly observed Johnny Moriarty, one of the barristers.” “I was propounding a will ‘in solemn form’ before Johnson and a jury, with Johnny Moriarty opposing me,” continues Sergeant Sullivan. “The opposition contended that the testator could not have been of sound mind, memory and understanding, because when roused on the arrival of hig solicitor, wlrn aag aa. old

friend, he had indignantly inquired, ‘Who are you, sir; who are you sir!’ In summing up the wooden-headed judge was extremely severe upon counsel who addressed such arguments to an unsuspecting jury. ‘When roused from slumber,’ said his Lordship modestly, ‘the most brilliant and erudite intellects may be momentarily confused. I myself remember on one occasion being awakened suddenly, and turning to the good lady beside me I exclaimed, are you, Madame; who are you?’” “ ‘You did/ said Johnny Moriarty. ‘And who was she?’” Another judge of the King’s Bench division wag Mr. Justice Boyd, of whom Sergeant Sullivan writes, ‘‘He was* intended by Providence to be a sailor, and be was in fact a fine one. No better seaman ever steered a ‘forty/ but his jurisprudence was all his own. Half measures were unknown to Boyd. Under the Irish practice objections to a summing up -were bound to be formulated at once to the judge concerned. At the close of a particularly enthusiastic dissertation counsel rose and said: “ ‘I respectfully object to the portion of the charge in which your Lordship told the jury—’ “‘I never said anything of the kind; no one but a fool wold say that/ w T am sure it was by inadvertence, but I took it down in shorthand; aud my friend agrees that your Lordship actually said—’

“ ‘AU right/ said Boyd, ‘lf I sail it I'll stick to it.’”