Fortified with a letter of introduction to the judge and a disposition
that will not be too easily shocked at seeing conditions of life as
they actually exist, the spectator may find his way past the policeman
at the gate in the rail. It clicks behind him ominously and he wonders
whether he will have difficulty in getting out. Finally through clerks
and officials who become more kindly as they learn he is a friend of
the judge, he is seated in a chair drawn up beside the bench. The
magistrate is a hearty round-faced man who seems almost human in spite
of his gown and the dignity of his surroundings. The court looks
different from this point of view and he may easily watch the judicial
enforcement of the law supreme.

The organization of these courts is simple. There are not many rules
or technicalities. The judges are patient, hard working,
understanding, and efficient. The trouble is with the laws they are
called upon to administer: Laws which are as absurd, as farcical, and
as impracticable as the plot of the lightest musical comedy.

At first the visitor can hardly understand what is going on. A
pale-faced man is in the witness chair, on his left a bedraggled
little woman is standing before and below the judge, her eyes just
level with the top of the desk. Clerks are coming with papers to be
signed: "commitments," "adjournments," "bail bonds"; others are trying
to engage his attention. In the meanwhile the case proceeds.

"I inform you," says the judge to the woman, "of your legal rights,
you may retain counsel if you desire to do so and your case will be
adjourned so that you may advise with him and secure witnesses, or you
may now proceed to trial. Which will you do?"