On a Jury in Washington Territory [pp. 41-46]

On a Jury in Washington Territory.
inlet is a long island covered with the
dense Washington forest of evergreen.
This island was an Indian reservation,
and on the shore just opposite was an
Indian village, so near that we could
hear the voices of the rollicking pappooses as they splashed in the waters of the
inlet, or dug in the mud for clams. They
won't drown, these dusky youngsters,
and learn to swim while they are teething. On the hillside, just above the
Indian village, was a little Catholic
church, - for the Flathead Indians are
all good Catholics,- and from the white
tower a cracked bell told the hour for
mass, or announced the departure of one
more child of the forest for the happy
hunting grounds. One of the lawyers
looked across to the picturesque Indian
village, sighed, and murmured something
intended to be eloquent about the simple
contentment reigning over there, -and
with such success that one could n't but
think of the disconsolate judge in Maud
Miller, and we expected to hear him
"hum in court an old love tune."
Although our town was small, the
county was one of the richest in the
Territory, the soil a thing to be spoken
of by all comers, and the yield of oats
and hay to the acre something almost
incredible. The homes were pleasant,
and the country people indulged in mild
luxury; and if they went to law, were
satisfied with no less able counsel than
the best legal lights of Seattle, and the
best legal lights of Seattle means a good
deal.
Court week came, and the village was
all astir. School closed, as school house
and court house were one; and one of
the unpleasant features of the occasion,
- one of the things that reminded me of
Miss Partridge's saying that "women
are needed to sweep out the political
kitchen" was that the floors had to
be covered with sawdust. It is the cus tom, I believe, in country court houses,
and reflects very discreditably on the manners of the people who assemble there.
It seemed queer to have the grave
judge occupying my little wooden desk,
and the recitation benches creaked with
responsibility as their corner did duty as
jury box. The blackboards with their
a's and e's, their spelling book sentences,
and amateur pigs, birds, and bottles,
looked strangely ouit of place, -though
I don't doubt Judge Greene was a barefoot boy once himself, and dangled toes
four inches from the floor when he
learned, "The cat has the rat,"- " It is
a hen," -" See my dog run."
That morning Mab and I put on very
sober gowns, and with endeavor to look
very dignified and intelligent, went up
to court. My best bonnet was redtipped and somewhat jaunty, so I carefully did not wear it, but completed my
toilet with a plain black hat. It was
much less becoming, but it was a vital
matter not to be conspicuous. We felt,
too, that it might be in keeping with the
court dignity that decoration should be
avoided, - though why I don't know,
when our ancestral judiciary was so
decked out, powdered, bewigged, and
scarlet-gowned.
We were regarded critically, it is true;
not that we were the first lady jurors,
-there had been others at the last term
of court in Seattle, -but we were the
first in that jurisdiction, and people were
assembled from all over the circuit. We
had agreed, however, to imagine that we
were society beauties occupying a proscenium box, and not to mind the staring; and as Judge Green was very kindly
and courteous, we felt well chaperoned.
Dapper lawyers provided chairs, expressed a desire to make us comfortable
and "at home," promised to tell us what
to do, and even went so far as to plan to
get us excused from tedious or unpleasant cases. Of course it was regular service on the petit jury; we were not eligible to grand jury service.
But fortunately for us the district was
rural; divorces and such sensations were
not the fashion, and the cases were civil
1889.]
48