The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rising of the Court, by Henry Lawson

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: The Rising of the Court

Author: Henry Lawson

Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7447]
Posting Date: July 25, 2009

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISING OF THE COURT ***

Produced by Geoffrey Cowling

THE RISING OF THE COURT

By Henry Lawson

Note: Only the prose stories are reproduced here, not the poetry.

THE RISING OF THE COURT

Oh, then tell us, Sings and Judges, where our meeting is to be,
when the laws of men are nothing, and our spirits all are free
when the laws of men are nothing, and no wealth can hold the fort,
There'll be thirst for mighty brewers at the Rising of the Court.

The same dingy court room, deep and dim, like a well, with the clock
high up on the wall, and the doors low down in it; with the bench,
which, with some gilding, might be likened to a gingerbread imitation
of a throne; the royal arms above it and the little witness box to one
side, where so many honest poor people are bullied, insulted and laughed
at by third-rate blackguardly little "lawyers," and so many pitiful,
pathetic and noble lies are told by pitiful sinners and disreputable
heroes for a little liberty for a lost self, or for the sake of a
friend--of a "pal" or a "cobber." The same overworked and underpaid
magistrate trying to keep his attention fixed on the same old miserable
scene before him; as a weary, overworked and underpaid journalist or
author strives to keep his attention fixed on his proofs. The same row
of big, strong, healthy, good-natured policemen trying not to grin at
times; and the police-court solicitors ("the place stinks with 'em," a
sergeant told me) wrangling over some miserable case for a crust, and
the "reporters," shabby some of them, eager to get a brutal joke for
their papers out of the accumulated mass of misery before them, whether
it be at the expense of the deaf, blind, or crippled man, or the alien.

And opposite the bench, the dock, divided by a partition, with the women
to the left and the men to the right, as it is on the stairs or the
block in po