Detroit College of Law - Forum Yearbook (Detroit, MI)

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FORUM?- This new danger overshadowed the rest. Tugging at the black robe of a judge. I whispered in great trepidation: Sire, your gracious Honor. will they HOL massacre us now? Xo! and a sarcastic grimace, which I took for a smile. played around his ghostly mouth. They are lawyers. beating their imbecile tom-toms. Can you read the inscrip- tions on those hideous things? Indeed upon the drawn skin of the tom-toms large letters were discernible. I read them: PRESL'lIPTIOXS. and on the other OBJECTIOXS. A sinking sensation Hooded me. alleviating the horror of my situation. and I began to watch the Plutonian panarama with quiet unconcern. You reversed my decisions, didn't you? a ghost at my side sneered at the figure whom I had questioned regarding Hannibal's barbarians. Chief justice. bah! XYell. Jim. the Supreme Court Justice spoke calmly. you were not a bright bird. One of the inexplicable accidents of politics made you judge. I knew you when you were a student at Detroit College of Law. - Shut up. you inveterate zero-slingerf' At a distant corner were grouped the English jurists in their sumptuous trappings. They scanned the field with cold reserve. They attracted my attention because a belligerent ghost. an American one. was shaking both his tists at the Britishers and shouting furiously: Down with your precedents. You have perpetrated enough evil upon American jurisprudence. You have fostered confusion. I say. down with you all, You. You. Lord Nottingham. hay the imps of hell shake your bones to perdition. You and your Statute of Frauds. It engendered more frauds than poor mortals could think of. Take away your accursed traditions and doctrines. we want to develop an American body of laws. Down with you . . . He turned and faced the American ghosts. fire in his eyes and thunder in his voice he belched forth: Brothers. when is it that in search of a rule for our conduct. we shall no longer be bandied from Coke to Croke. from Planden to Year Books. from thence to the dome books. from ignotium to ignotius in the inverse ratio of philosophy and reason? Cl The disastrous climax. was at hand when the Britishers and Americans would launch the death struggle. A gong sounded. It was the bailiff giving the alarm. All vanished. Footsteps were heard from outside. The door of the library opened with a flourish and a classmate entered. Hello. Shorty. all alone? Yeah. all alone! Never again went I into the library in the mornings. H. K. ARMEX. '3l. Cl Defense Atty. Sampson in People vs. Melvin. X. Y. 1809, It is an instinct with mr fvrsomzlly to attack rtrr-V idm it-lzirlz has been full gro-:un for tan yours, r.ff.'riaIIy if it claims to bc tin' foundation of nil lzumuu socict-v. I am frUfnrt'd to bark lzuman society against any idm. fositizu' or Ircgtztitw. that mn be brought into thc field against it. -George Bcrmzrd Share: Page One Hundred Thirty-five

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lFORUM THE HAUNTED LIBRARY Of making many laws. I said. there is no end. The road a prospective lawyer travels is hazardous. and in future. he will be unable to reverse judgments if he fails to appropriate now a goodly stock of legal wise saws and instances. XYith this ambitious thought uppermost in my mind I entered the library. It was morning. The drab backs of legal volumes slumbered on the shelves. There was something impressive in the melancholy silence of the library which made me-an otherwise indifferent fellow-'to tread cautiously. Soon I was in the technical labyrinth of a reported case. I did not like it. Justice is not simple. She follows a breathless course: that is the reason they bandaged her eyes. I continued to meditate as I began to copy the head-notes. A slight noise rippled in the heavy silence. It was like the shuffling of a gown. I raised my eyes. I still wonder why the sight did not strike me blind. One of the volumes had grown to gigantic proportions and from between its pages there stepped down a human form enfolded in inky cloak, not unlike the black robe of a judge. The form moved and took a step toward me! Seized with mortal terror and under the violent lashing of contrary emotions, words. long forgotten, leaped to my lips: .-Xvauntl and quit my sight. let the earth hide thee, Thy bones are marrowless. thy blood is cold. Thou hast no speculation in those eyes XYhich thou glare with. 'tYhat followed it is not in human power to describe adequately. :X salvo of tumultuous applause greeted my convulsive words, and the figure, now close to me. said in sepulchral voice: XYell said. with good elocution and feeling. Slipping into a state of semi-consciousness. I looked around like a hounded animal eager to find out the source of the rumbling applause. There, from the grotesquely en- larged legal tomes came forth a legion of judicial ghosts. They were too real to be mistaken for spectres. They seemed to be advancing and maneuvering in endless battalions. Instinctively I looked toward the shelf where Michigan Statutes were. The bulky volumes had assumed the proportions of ramparts and gave out their quota of judge-ghosts. I took refuge behind one of them. XYhat used to be the library of Detroit College of Law now appeared to me a vast landscape teeming with humanity. Perhaps it was the grayish mist that made the ghosts appear in perspective and create the illusion of distance. To my shame I 11111511 confess that my timidity borders on cowardice and now. in the clutch of circumstances that no mortal ever suffered. my thoughts centered on escape. The primeval urge for self-preservation surged within me with all its savage insistence. I turned toward the door. A bailiff. ominous and fearful, guarded it and blocked my XVHV. I looked for a friend and among the Michigan ghosts a face struck me as familiar. Yes. I knew the features. the shaven upper lip and untrimmed beard. It was the face of one of the Smith Brothers of Cough Drop fame. Mr Smith. I queried eagerly. are we in danger? A glowering glance answered me. SIL Smith? Yes, Sir. Are you not one of the Smith Brothers? Smith! Smith Brothers! My name is Thomas Cooley . . . Ah. the deceptive treachery of superficial resemblance! To take the great Justice Cooley for the controller of coughs. Remorse burned my forehead. XYhy. why did I take up law? I should have followed my original inclination and become a porter. Even now, above the dim and dust of this ghastly scene. I saw the dark green uniform and the shining brass buttons of a princely porter. I turned toward where the windows used to be. In the distance, across the way. was a mob of aborigines. Their bodies covered with skins, each armed with a spear, they were so like the barbarians of Hannibal deployed upon an African Flatland ready to attack. They kept up an incessant drumming on two huge tom-toms. Page One Hundred Thirty-four

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