Lest the World Forget

Judicial reform in New Hampshire has done away with the state's many little municipal courts. But Amherst Justice Charles L. Lincoln was worried lest the world forget the drama that took place in his courtroom. Thus, the highlights of 14 years are immortalized in his final report to the town (pop. 2,051).

"At various times," the judge recalls, "the court has witnessed the collapse of a chair under the weight of a state trooper," while "the justice got the zipper on his gown caught in his tie and sat out an entire session thus involved, with the tie hanging out like the tongue of a Saint Bernard." The court, of course, had some serious cases, not the least of which involved a woman who complained violently about speeding on Mount Vernon Road. When state troopers finally set up a roadblock, "the lady who made all the fuss was herself picked up for unreasonable speed driving to the post office, and to crown the lily, was picked up 15 minutes later on her return trip. She has since left town."

Amherst's judicial landmark was a famous conflict-of-laws case involving a chicken house that happened to straddle the Amherst-Milford town line. When some prowling animal frightened the chickens on the first floor, "they ran from the Milford end to the Amherst end of the house and proceeded to expire there in great numbers. The fracas caused by this activity frightened the chickens on the second floor of the chicken house, and they ran to the Milford end of the chicken house where they in turn undertook to die in equally vast numbers."

Who was liable for damages? "The Town of Milford took the position that the first-floor hens died in Amherst, the damage was therefore done there, so Amherst should pay. Amherst took the position that the fuss started in the Milford end and, anyway, the second-floor chickens, though they started their, flight in Amherst, nevertheless died in the Milford end, and therefore Milford should pay."

In the end, no one paid. Blame was laid to "some extraneous element like a skunk or a fox (a taxpayer in neither town) rather than a dog, and as far as your justices know, the matter is still 'under advisement.' " So is just about everything else. "Nobody knows what to do with the pile of old complaints and warrants accumulated over 14 years, and nobody has the courage to throw them away." They will doubtless endure for the delight of "some archaeologist digging in the remains of Amherst." As for himself, says Justice Lincoln, it feels great to be "relieved of the necessity of maintaining the judicial demeanor."

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