"In those good old days, my absent friend was discussing a motion before his Honor, Judge Greene, involving the question of whether certain alleged facts amounted to fraud. In support of his contention, my friend was reading copious extracts from _Browne on the Statute of Frauds_. In doing so, he was constantly calling that author's name Brown-e? 'Why do you call that name Brown-e?' asked the Judge. 'It is spelled,' answered our friend, with charming gravity, 'B-r-o-w-n-e; if that is not Brow-ne, I would like to know what it does spell?' 'I spell my name,' said the Judge, 'G-r-e-e-n-e. You would not call me Gree-ne, would you?' 'That depends,' replied our friend, 'on how your Honor decides this motion.' The Judge waived the contempt and joined in a general laugh. "It is a delicate matter to discuss the qualities, mental and otherwise of a living and honored brother, and I hope to be pardoned for the following: Wit and humor, though distinct, are often confounded. The grave and solemn man is often full of humorous conceptions. He suppresses their utterance sometimes with difficulty. He consumes them in an internal feast of pleasure. It is an exhilerating, but lonely feast. In this there may be a tinge of selfishness; but we will not condemn. But when he opens the mental throttle and allows them to flow forth, they give pleasure to all and continue as a pleasant and fragrant memory. Judge Greene, though not a wit, is full of humor. His description of an 'Inspector afloat,' in an Admiralty case in this then District, in which he contrasted what an Inspector afloat ought to do and see with what this Inspector did not do or see, is an admirable specimen of genuine humor. I believe that it was published at the time, but I presume that only a few of my hearers have ever seen it. It ought to be republished. It is worth preserving. It was possibly this latent trait in the Judge's mental constitution that led to the following scene: