sortment of drunks, petty thieves--male and
female, black, white and coffee-colored--disorderlies, vagabonds and a
man in full-dress suit and a wide expanse of dull ecru shirt-bosom.

The place was stuffy, foul-smelling, and reeked with a stale
combination of tobacco and beer and patchouli, and tears, curses, fear
and promises unkept.

The Judge turned things off, but without haste. He showed more
patience and consideration than one usually sees on the bench. His
judgments seemed to be gentle and just.

The courtroom was clearing, and I started to go.

-------------------------------------

As I was passing down the icy steps a piping child's voice called to
me, "Mister, please give me a lift!"

There at the foot of the steps, standing in the snow, was a slender
slip of a girl, yellow and earnest, say ten years old, with a shawl
pinned over her head. She held in her hand a rope, and this rope was
tied to a hand-sled. On this sled sat a little boy, shivering, dumpy
and depressed, his bare red hands clutching the seat.

"Mister, I say, please give me a lift!"

"Sure!" I said.

It was a funny sight.

This girl seemed absolutely unconscious of herself. She was not at all
abashed, and very much in earnest about something.

Evidently she had watched the people coming out and had waited until
one appeared that she thought safe to call on for help.

"Of course I'll give you a lift--what is it you want me to do?"

"I've got to go inside and see the Judge. It's about my brudder here.
He is six, goin' on seven, and they sent him home from school 'cause
they said he wasn't old enough. I'm going to have that teacher
'rested. I've got the Bible here that says he's six years old. If
you'll carry the book I'll bring Billy and the sled!"

"Where is the Bible?" I asked.

"Billy's settin' on it."

It was a big, black, greasy Family Bible, evidently a relic of better
days. It had probably been hidden under the bed for safety.

The girl grappled the sled with one hand, and with the other Billy's
little red fist.

I followed, carrying the big, black, greasy Family Bible.

Evidently this girl had been here before. She walked around the end of
the judicial bar, and laid down the sled. Then she took the Bible out
of my hands. It was about all she could do to lift it.

In a shrill, piping voice, full of business, and very much in earnest,
she addressed the Judge: "I say, Mister Judge, they sent my brudder