ase, where it had been probably some four thousand years
at least, carried it over to England last year and planted
it, and it came up and they had a very good crop."

"Of mummies, sir?" inquired old Josiah Adams, a waggish member
of the Bar.

"No, Mr. Adams," replied the Chief Justice, with a tone of
reproof, and with great seriousness. "No, Mr. Adams, not
mummies--wheat."

Adams retired from the circle in great discomfiture. He
inquired of one of the other lawyers, afterward, if he supposed
that the Chief Justice really believed that he thought the
seed had produced mummies, and was told by his friend that
he did not think there was the slightest doubt of it.

Chief Justice Shaw, though very rough in his manner was exceedingly
considerate of the rights of poor and friendless persons.
Sometimes persons unacquainted with the ways of the world
would desire to make their own arguments, or would in some
way interrupt the business of the court. The Chief Justice
commonly treated them with great consideration. One amusing
incident happened quite late in his life. A rather dissipated
lawyer who had a case approaching on the docket, one day told
his office-boy to "Go over to the Supreme Court and see what
in hell they are doing." The Court were hearing a very important
case in which Mr. Choate was on one side and Mr. Curtis
on the other. The Bar and the Court-Room were crowded with
listeners. As Mr. Curtis was in the midst of his argument,
the eye of the Chief Justice caught sight of a young urchin,
ten or eleven years old, with yellow trousers stuffed into
his boots, and with his cap on one side of his head, gazing
intently up at him. He said, "Stop a moment, Mr. Curtis."
Mr. Curtis stopped, and there was a profound silence as the
audience saw the audacious little fellow standing entirely
unconcerned. "What do you want, my boy?" said the Chief Justice.
"Mr. P. told me to come over here and see what in hell you
was up to," was the reply. There was a dive at the unhappy
youth by three or four of the deputies in attendance, and
a roar of laughter from the audience. The boy was ejected.
But the gravity of the old Chief Justice was not disturbed.

He had a curiously awkward motion, especially in moving about
a parlor in social gatherings, or walking in the street.
I once pointed out to a friend a ludicrous resemblance between
his countenance and expression and that of one of the tortoises
in the illustrations