[Sam P. Davis, A Day with Bill Nye, from Short Stories (1886)]

 

A DAY WITH BILL NYE.

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            A couple of years ago, I had occasion to pass through Laramie City, Wyoming, the site of the office of the famous Boomerang, then edited by Bill Nye. Having met Nye in Salt Lake, I felt sufficiently acquainted to call and see him. A darkey hauled me from the train to the office in a hack, and when I offered him a half he touched his hat, with a grin, and said :

            " Friend of Mr. Nye, sah ? No charge, sah."

            The office was over a rather strong-smelling livery stable, and the atmosphere of the entire premises was horsy to the last degree. Climbing a tremulous flight of stairs, I found myself in his editorial room, where a civil suit was in progress. Somewhat to my astonishment, Nye was seated on the bench, patiently listening to the testimony in the case. I entered the door of the rather small room, and as I paused a moment to look around for a place to sit down, Nye recognized me, and, rising, said :

            " One moment, gentlemen;" arid, turning to where I was standing, called out rather loudly :

            " Judge, come up here and seat yourself," at the same time drawing an extra chair to his side.

(110)

A DAY WITH BILL NYE.      111

            In Salt Lake, Nye had assured me that he was a Justice of the Peace in Laramie, and used his sanctum as a court-room ; but that a man of his disposition could ever find it in his heart to properly perform the sober functions of a magistrate, did not seem probable ; and believing the story simply a draft on my credulity or an exhibition of his bubbling facetiousness, I had gravely responded by stating that I had presided two years over a Methodist church in Oakland, at the same time congratulating myself that I had at least been able to hold my own with the Great Prevaricator of the West.

            Imagine my feelings when I discovered that Nye's account of his official standing was indeed true, and that I had deceived him outrageously on an hour's acquaintance. These thoughts were passing rapidly through my mind as he motioned me to a chair, and there being no other, I took a place alongside him on the bench. The idea of a non-judicial personage sitting beside a judge, although nothing more than a county Justice of the Peace, seemed to me wholly out of place, not to say ludicrous. There was nothing left to do, however, but to assume an air of being perfectly at home ; yet while I was gravely engaged in this performance, one of the counsel, whose argument I had interrupted on entering, finished arguing his point of law and sat down. Nye, giving me a slight nudge with his knee, rose again and remarked, with a gravity of demeanor which I shall never forget:

            " Gentlemen, it is with some feeling of pride and pleasure that I introduce my friend Judge Berryfloss, of San Francisco, one of the leading lights of the San Francisco bar, and ex-Judge of the Twelfth Judicial District. As this case is a somewhat peculiar one, I would like to have Judge Berryfloss act in my place. The defendant here is

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a journalist—engaged in conducting a newspaper in this city. It is a business rival of the Boomerang, a paper conducted by myself. There have been some insinuations thrown out by counsel in this case that they could not have a fair trial before me, and, having learned of the journey of Judge Berryfloss across the continent, I took the trouble to telegraph him at Ogden to come here, if possible, and sit in this case. I do not wish it said, after this case is decided, that I made any unfair rulings or tried in any way to influence the jury. I do this, not because I think it necessary in a case of this magnitude, but to protect my own judicial reputation. As far as Judge Berryfloss is concerned, there can certainly be no objections to a gentleman of his reputation as a jurist sitting in judgment upon any case ever tried in Wyoming."

            The counsel for the defendant, who did not appear to be on very good terms with Nye, said that he would be happy to try a case before a man whose rulings would be in accordance with law, and where there was no fear of their being reversed by another court.

Counsel for plaintiff objected to any change of judges at this stage of the case. It would necessitate a new trial, and he believed the jury was already weary of the evidence and indignant at the time consumed in arguing issues raised on the baldest technicalities he had ever heard of in a court of justice. He believed Nye to be as fair a minded man as lived, and challenged a denial of his assertion from any source.

            The effort to maintain a judicial expression of countenance during this wrangle might be measured by comparison to the effort of sawing a couple of cords of wood before breakfast.

            During his talk Nye wore a look of profound serious-

A DAY WITH BILL NYE.      I 13

ness, and accompanied his remarks with earnest gesture, which bespoke the born actor.

            I called to mind a favorite trick of a police-court Justice in Chicago named Banyan, who during an argument would let his pencil drop while pretending to fix it over his ear, and then stooping behind the desk to find it, would seize a whisky bottle and indulge in a sly nip, after which he would pop his head above the desk and gaze upon the jury with the old melancholy air that had saddened them a few seconds before. When I saw Nye fumbling with a pencil I surmised that he contemplated this trick, and when he lifted his hand to his ear, the horror of what he might do seeped through my whole system like water through a sponge. This dread was really all that enabled me to preserve my decorum. As long as Mr. Nye did not give a rendition of Banyan's famous trick, I felt considerable confidence in my ability to pull through.

            Again the counsel wrangled, while Nye was obdurate, vowing that he would not try the case when such high judicial talent was present. During a temporary lull I embraced the opportunity of declining to serve, on the ground that I had arrived too late. " It's a very simple matter, gentlemen," I said. " The Supreme Court of California, in the case of Donald vs. Ulrich, and the Supreme Court of Iowa, in the case of Rodgers vs. Henderson, have both so decided. I am willing to give Judge Nye the benefit of any advice which he may need ; but allow me to say that, under the circumstances, my presence upon the bench is a gross violation of law, and I shall now retire."

            With these remarks I cast a reproving look at my judicial associate, under which he appeared to wilt, and

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rising, I left the seat I had just occupied. The case then proceeded in due form, and I discovered that the plaintiff was a printer who was suing a publisher for wages, and the latter was running a paper in opposition to the Boomerang.

            Presently the publisher was asked to state his bona fide circulation, and his attorney objected. After a long dispute, during which Nye was as solemn as death, he remarked that the question was a delicate one, under the circumstances. While he did not think that a man could be compelled to disclose his business secrets, he would adjourn the court until the next morning, that he might have time to consult authorities and make himself safe and solid.

            The room was soon emptied, and when the last man had reached the bottom of the stairs Nye doubled himself up like a jack-knife, straightened out again a couple of times, and laughed as if the pent-up merriment of the past half-hour had found its vent at once. After he had sobered down a little he said that my refusal to sit in the case would always result in a gulf between us. He could never forgive me to his dying day.

            The next morning, when the court was called to order, he stated gravely that he had consulted all the leading authorities, from the English common law to the statutes of Wyoming, and had discovered, somewhat to his surprise, that the question was proper and admissible. He had also consulted Judge Berryfloss, and his opinion being in accord with the authorities, he considered it imperative to so decide. The question must be answered.

            Finally the defendant admitted that his total circulation was 147.

A DAY WITH BILL NYE.      115

            " You have a perfect right, sir, to count in exchanges and deadheads," said Nye, in a pitying voice.

            The abashed publisher made no reply, and the people in the court-room were astonished, as he had claimed several thousand. The jury gave the case to the plaintiff, and the revelation of the small circulation of the defendant had the almost immediate effect of ruining him in business. Not long afterward I received a marked copy of the Boomerang which contained a burlesque obituary on the dead newspaper in question, headed with a cut of a monument which looked as if it bad been engraved on the back of a boxwood job-letter by Nye's own hand.