The Men Beneath the Robes

After hearing all the testimony in the case of a woman on trial for fortunetelling, Detroit Judge Joseph A. Gillis adjourned his court and disappeared into his chambers carrying the defendant's crystal ball. A few minutes later, he returned to the bench. "Look into your crystal ball," he said to the woman, "and see if you can read my mind on your case." She gazed at the globe and, with obvious astonishment, read off: "Ninety days."

Judge Gillis had written the sentence on a slip of paper and pasted it on the bottom of the ball. He was amusing himself with another of the lighthearted gags that have made him one of Michigan's best-known judges.

"Get Out of the Boat." Such horsing around hardly squares with the standard image of stern, black-robed dignity. But a judge's job allows a great deal of individual freedom. Supervision by superiors is almost always far from the courtroom, and an occasional judge is as unconventional as Gillis. Some judges, indeed, seem eccentric in their very insistence on maintaining decorum. Justice Irving Saypol of New York State's Supreme Court handed down many decisions last year, but he made his biggest splash in the local press by rebuking a woman lawyer for wearing "a flamboyant turban with the many colors of Joseph's coat." In New Orleans, Judge J. Bernard Cocke of the state criminal court recently sentenced several witnesses to four hours in jail because they arrived in court a few minutes late.

While some judges are sticklers for decorum, others are noted for informality. Judge Thomas B. Pugh of Baton Rouge, La., city court often hands out cigarettes and coffee to defendants during the morning recess. Chicago's Municipal Judge Cecil Corbett Smith, at present unassigned because of alleged associations with the underworld, had a habit of eating sandwiches on the bench while his court was in session.

Circuit Judge Waldo C. Mayfield of St. Louis is remarkable for his blunt remarks to lawyers in his courtroom. An ardent fisherman and hunter, he frequently admonishes a lawyer to "fish, cut bait or get out of the boat," or tells him he is "barking up a cold trail."

Something Like Solomon. Boston's Superior Court Judge Frank J. Donahue hands down heavy sentences, especially in nonsupport cases, and lawyers swear they can always tell when he is about to send somebody away for a "long ride" because he starts humming a tune to himself. County Judge Arch Campbell of Little Rock, Ark., who also serves as county commissioner, dotes on the color purple. Not content with having his own office decorated in purple, even to the telephone, he has had every one of the county's official vehicles painted to match. One federal district judge in Chicago is an impassioned admirer of Abraham Lincoln, has adorned his courtroom and chambers with Lincolniana. The judge: Abraham Lincoln Marovitz.

Perhaps the frankest of judges is General Sessions Judge Brown Taylor of Nashville, Tenn. He once dismissed a drunken-driving charge against a banker because "this man loaned me money when I needed it, and I'm going to help him now." After a witness in an assault case testified that the defendant struck him with a whip, Taylor offered some judicial advice: "Don't ever let anyone whip you. Take a gun and kill him."

For all their offbeat reputations, such judges are also capable of making practical use of their antic imaginations. Judge Gillis, the crystal ball man, reached a Solomonic judgment in the case of two men brought before him on charges of shooting dice. When the judge asked who owned the dice, each defendant pointed to the other. Gillis then ordered the policeman who was holding the dice to return them to the owner. One of the accused men reached out his hand. Gillis briskly pointed a finger at him and said: "Thirty days!"

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