The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1914-09-11
EQUALITY OF Mercy
BY HAZEL w. NELSON.


court room. From without came dis
tant rumble of life, faint changing Of
trolley-car bells, or the roll of heavy
trucks over the cobbles of the thor
oughfare blocks away; but this was a
quiet side street. In the intense heat
OF mid-afternoon In July the rows OF
wooden houses, pretentious enough in
the early part of the century, were now
little used and falling to decay; the
overgrown yards, the wide street with
its few old trees, stretched sunny and
deserted. Now and then a footstep
might be heard far up the street, pass,
and then grow fainter In the distance.
But for the most part people pre-
ferred to doze behind closed blinds till
the cool of evening brought some re-
lief.
Inside the court room there was also
/ q stiffness. not Of desolation. but Of
high tension. The lawyer for the de-
Tense was pleading. In the beginning
of his speech he had stopped often to
wipe his perspiring brow with large
red-bordered handkerchief, or to pour
himself a glass of ice-water from the
pitcher on the table. But now he had
become SO interested that he talked
on and on, regardless of the heat.
The jury, one by one, had tucked
their handkerchief inside their wilt
ed collars. then had stripped OF their
coats, and now sat, study in blue,
red, plaid shirtsleeves. all inwardly
cursing the fate that called them to
jury duty in such intolerable weather.
A COOL fair-minded jury, indeed!
But there was one person in the
court room that cared neither for the
heavy silence nor the oppressive heat.
The defendant was young man, un-
der thirty; the wilderness Of his clean
cut face was intensified by dark lines
Of dissipation under his eyes. He held
his head high, scorning to feel the dis
! grace Of his position or to ask any
mercy. Even the crankiest member OF
the jury felt vaguely that he was not
just like the other umorous. or sui
len. wretches who had come before
them during that term Of court
He himself could hardly account for
the strange exhilaration. the wonder
full hope. that possessed him. Even
the witnesses against him, who In turn
had come to the stand and testified
40 one man concerning his evident
guilt. smiled at him as they stepped
down. That bad affair with the inn.
keeper at Paterson had been painted
pretty dark; but, although things
looked rather black for him from that
point Of view, his high hopes were
not daunted for a moment. His law.
yer was so encouraging, and the case
seemed so plainly merely one of hard
luck on his part.
His eye lighted in contempt on the
jaded little clerk bending over his
writing; how old and weary and dried
up and humdrum he looked. And he
himself was SO overlooking with life.
with the splendid Joy Of living and
with the thoughts Of that new and
higher life now being unfolded to him.
The old life was dead and gone.
"Jove!" he told himself, there are
80 many big things a fellow can do
such satisfaction working day and
night toward some one end"
To be sure he hadn't worked very
much yet but he had always meant to
always dreamed Of great things he
! would do for the world some time. So
| far his life had been something OF q
n In of
anyway, he had gone a pretty fast
gait. But had he had half chance?
; His face grew dark as one memory
after another crowded upon him: one
Of mere lad eagerly pleading for
giveness from his father for some
thoughtless prank, but the stern frig-
idity of the old gentleman did not soft
on; of a young man, with a face grown
harder and more sullen, suspended
from college without fair hearing
because he would not peach" on his
chum-and a thousand others. The
lines OF bitterness around his mouth
deepened; then came his lawyers
words:
How well we remember our own
young days. when perhaps we. too.
sowed a pretty good sized crop Of
wild oats. Gentlemen Of the jury,
what is this so-called crime but boy
ish trick. carried, perhaps. too far?
And always"
The defendants face cleared, and he
smiled. 1t seemed as II the harum-
scarum lad. that young daredevil, were
another person entirely; he himself
was 30 changed now. OF course, peo-
pie would make allowances for the
wildness Of young man; they were
always ready to forgive the scrapes Of
mischievous boys, especially the good
looking ones.
And then like fash came a picture
Of day long ago, when he was a boy
OF in the country; a picture Of the old.
weather-beaten court house at Pleasant
Mountain. overgrown with woodbine,
and a great weeping willow almost in
front Of the door. That day he and
Bud Wilkins and Andy Blake had been
to the circus at Upton-Upton was
twolvo yptIas %pou, bic So<bar,s Bor,o.