There is the case of a young man named Sullivan, who stole a tray of valuable jewelry from a Columbus avenue house. A morning paper commented freely on the “pull” that gave the prisoner a suspended sentence. The owner of the store did not relish the thief getting off so easy. In speaking of the affair he said: “The next time a thief visits my place, I will make no effort to bring him to justice. What is the use, if he is let go after his guilt has been clearly established? The robbery was carefully planned, and was well carried out. The Court should have given the thief a medal. Why not?” While chaplain, I was sent for by an unfortunate girl, an inmate of the Women’s Prison. She had the usual tale of disappointment and misplaced confidence to tell, which was full of sadness. Most girls, strangers in New York, and far from home, have usually a hard road to travel. After I heard her story, I remembered that there was a prominent lawyer in the city that came from the same place of which she was a native. The gentleman was an ex-Assistant District Attorney. I felt if I could only get him interested in the case, she would have a better chance of securing her liberty. I made a personal call on the gentleman. He had spacious offices in the vicinity of Wall Street. As soon as I had mentioned this young woman’s name, he at once recognized it. Indeed, he had been intimate with the family for years, and was willing to do anything for her. All of which was very encouraging. I then asked him to make a note of the date when she came up for sentence. At my suggestion he called one of the stenographers to make a memorandum. “Mary Ann,” said my legal friend, “make a note of this,” and looking very pious, he said, “I do this for the love of God; yes, I do this for the love of God.” By this time the clerks and typewriters began to snicker and laugh. Just as I had expected, all this pious talk did not amount to anything. The poor girl was finally sent away to one of our institutions. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XXIV CRIMINAL BRANCH OF THE SUPREME COURT When on January 1st, 1896, the present Constitution of the State of New York took effect, there went out of existence the Court of Oyer and Terminer—a court whose quaint name accorded well with its interesting history and associations. It was an exclusively criminal court, closely allied to the Supreme Court, and although unlike the “Circuit Court” not strictly a part of it, its judges were Supreme Court Justices assigned to hold it and interlocutory proceedings in actions pending therein were taken in the Supreme Court.