Judge Kidder Anecdotes


	This information appears in Chapter LXXXVI of "History of South 
	Dakota" by Doane Robinson, Vol. I (1904), pages 503-505 and was 
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CHAPTER LXXXVI

ANECDOTES OF JUDGE KIDDER.

BY HON. C. H. WINSOR.

	The case had been tried, and the Judge, coming down from the bench, had 
entered his private room, where he found several members of the bar sitting 
around in attitudes of relaxation, smoking, thinking, and each, now and then, 
expressing the thought uppermost in his mind.  In an inconsequent fashion, the 
talk drifted finally to one subject, which one of the group insisted that he 
thought ought to be taken up at the next bar meeting. The gray-haired lawyer in 
the corner, in a reminiscent way, remarked: "Times have changed a good deal 
since we held the first bar meeting in Lincoln county."

	The smart young man, lately admitted, over by the judge asked : "Why? Was 
there anything so remarkable about that meeting?"

	The gray-haired lawyer slowly answered: "Well, not what you might call 
remarkable, but, looking back at it now after more than thirty years, it is what 
you might call different; yes, quite different!  And to me it is very 
interesting."

	"Ah," eagerly assented a new accession to the bar of the state, "tell us 
something of those times. It must indeed have been different."

	"Well, if vou care to waste a few minutes in listening, I will tell you 
about that bar meeting."

	A chorus of assent rose from most of those present, but the smart young 
man got up and yawned, turned toward the door, but finally came back and 
lingered at the outer edge of the group.

	Lighting a fresh cigar and settling himself more comfortably in his chair, 
the gray-haired lawyer proceeded:

	"It was in October of the year 1871 that the first term of the district 
court of the old territory of Dakota was held at the little village of Canton, 
in Lincoln county.  I had located there some months before, and had managed, in 
a professional way, to get a sufficient number of people to assert their rights-
or to attempt it, at least-so that judge Kidder, who then lived at Vermillion, 
concluded to hold a term of the district court at Canton, which was the county 
seat. He drove across the almost unbroken prairie from Vermillion. some fifty 
miles, in his carriage, and arrived on the evening of October 8th. The next 
morning court convened, with three cases on the calendar and three lawyers in 
attendance.  A couple of days sufficed to dispose of all the business before the 
court.  There had come down from Sioux Falls a man by the name of McLaurie, who 
desired to be admitted to the bar. In those days we did not have the red tape 
that is now wound around an admission to the bar. The process was quite simple.  
A lawyer proposed that a committee be appointed to examine the applicant; the 
judge would appoint such a committee, and if reported favorably (as they usually 
did) the applicant was sworn in. Mr. McLaurie asked me to move for the 
appointment of a committee, which I did, and was made chairman of that 
committee.  There being but three members of the bar present, no one was left 
out and therefore there was no jealousy or pique felt in connection with it.  
After we had examined the applicant somewhat, I, acting as chairman, made him a 
little speech telling him that we should recommend his admission, and 
remembering the advice that had been given to me at the time I was admitted, 
only two or three years before, I added : 'Now, Mr. McLaurie, although you are 
to be admitted to the bar as a practicing lawyer, you must remember that you are 
not yet a lawyer; none of us are; to be a lawyer we require constant study, to 
be always striving by undivided attention to increase our store of legal 
knowledge. The fact that you are admitted to the bar will not make you a 
lawyer.'  These words seemed to sink deeply into his heart, and, as you will 
soon see, were to bear fruit later.  After Mr. McLaurie had been sworn in, he 
came to me and said that he would like to show his appreciation of the honor 
that had been conferred upon him by giving a supper, and would do so if he only 
knew of a place where he could give it.  After some discussion, it was decided 
that we should gather in my office, and that Mr. McLaurie be graciously allowed 
to provide refreshments. The judge, the bar and the officers of the court were 
included in the invitation.  The banquet, as we called it, consisted mainly of 
crackers and cheese, cove oysters, cigars and plenty of frontier whisky. After a 
while the guests began to get warmed up, and songs were sung, stories were told, 
and many drinks were consumed.  Judge Kidder presided over the feast, and smiled 
and joked with all.  As the evening drew on toward the wee small hours, I 
proposed that we drink the health of our new made brother in the law, Mr. 
McLaurie.  The Judge smilingly bowed to Mr. McLaurie, and called him by name.  
Mr. McLaurie, as the 'Exhibit A' of the evening, had been drinking with this, 
that and the other guest, until he was well nigh too full for utterance.  He 
rose unsteadily to his feet, and, placing his hands upon the edge of the table, 
bowed with  great gravity to the judge and to each of the guests; an instant 
passed and, collecting himself with a start, he again bowed to the judge and to 
each one.  Then he began  'Mr. Chairman,' and again paused to collect his 
thoughts. The chairman bowed and said, 'Mr. McLaurie.'  A moment passed, and 
then again  'Mr. Chairman.'  The chairman repeated, Mr. McLaurie.' Finally 
recalling the incidents of the afternoon, the speaker agan commenced: 'Mr. 
Chairman, I deeply preshate the great honor which has been conferred 'pon me 
zsish day, by being admitted to zhe bar.  I shay I deely preshate zhat honor-but 
I know zhat I am not yet a lawyer.'  He stopped a moment, striving to recollect 
something that he wanted to say, and then continued: "I know I am not yet a 
lawyer-" Again he  stopped and again continued:  "I know I am not yet a lawyer."  
The third time he paused, and Judge Kidder, apparently to encourage him, smiled 
upon with great urbanity, and said: 'Proceed, Brother McLaurie; so far the court 
is entirely with you!" Mr. McLaurie never knew why he was not allowed to finish 
his speech, which was drowned in roars of laughter."

	The smart young man, after a moment's thought, said : "Why, the man must 
have been intoxicated!" 

	After the laughter had subsided, some one remarked:  "Judge Kidder; he was 
one of your earlier judges in the territory, was he not?" "Yes," answered the 
gray- haired lawyer, "one of the earliest, and one of the best.  A man with a 
heart like a child's.  A man who despised technicalities, and who thought that 
lawsuits ought to be decided by the application of what he termed 'horse sense.'  
A gentleman of the old school, who, would be as polite and gracious to his 
bitterest enemy as to his dearest friend.  A man who placed the utmost 
confidence in the members of the bar. and who would resent any attempt to 
deceive him by never again placing any confidence in or in any way trusting that 
man.  He never failed to appreciate an amusing situation or a pleasant joke.  I 
remember one time when he was holding court at Flandreau.  The court was held in 
the second story of a building, the hall-way opening from one end of the room 
and the judge's chair at the other.  General Rice had brought an action to 
recover upon a promissory note from some farmer in that county made in 
settlement for some machinery purchased by the farmer. Another lawyer, I cannot 
now recall his name, had put in an answer for the defendant, and wished to have 
the case continued.  There was but one term of court a year held in the county, 
and should the case be continued it would give a much better opportunity for the 
settling of the case out of court. At the call of the calendar the lawyer for 
the defendant stated to the court the facts upon which he desired to have the 
case continued. General Rice, however, more anxious to protect himself against 
his own client than anyone else, stated to the court that while he had no reason 
to doubt the statement made by the counsel, still the rules of court provided 
that an affidavit should be filed upon an application for a continuance, setting 
forth the facts, and that he should insist that this be done.  Judge Kidder 
turned to the counsel and said : 'Mr. ______, I always take the statement of the 
members of the bar, and consider it as binding as I would an affidavit from a 
layman, but General Rice is correct in this; the rule of court requires that you 
file an affidavit setting forth the facts necessary for the court to act upon in 
granting a continuance. Now, sir, I will give you half an hour to take your 
client out and prepare an affidavit for the continuance.' The counsel whispered 
to his client, and together they started towards the door. They had taken but a 
few steps, however, when Judge Kidder called to him, 'Mr. ______!' The counsel 
hastily returned to receive the further instructions of the court. The court 
fixed his eyes steadily upon him for a moment, and said, 'And see, that in that 
affidavit he commits no unnecessary perjury.' To lawyers who are familiar with 
the manner in which affidavits of continuance are sometimes drawn, the quiet 
satire of the remark can readily be appreciated.