Besides the legal cases tried and the judgments pronounced within the homely walls of the Old Court House, interest would attach to the curious scenes--could they be recovered and described--which there occurred, arising sometimes from the primitive rusticity of juries, and sometimes from their imperfect mastery of the English language, many of them being, as the German settlers of Markham and Vaughan were indiscriminately called, Dutchmen. Peter Ernest, appearing in court with the verdict of a jury of which he was foreman, began to preface the same with a number of peculiar German-English expressions which moved Chief Justice Powell to cut him short by the remark that he would have to commit him if he swore:--when Ernest observed that the perplexities through which he and the jury had been endeavouring to find their way, were enough to make better men than they were express themselves in an unusual way.--The verdict, pure and simple, was demanded. Ernest then announced that the verdict which he had to deliver was, that half of the jury were for "guilty" and half for "not guilty." That is, the Judge observed, you would have the prisoner half-hanged, or the half of him hanged. To which Peter replied, that would be as his Lordship pleased.--It was a case of homicide. Being sent back, they agreed to acquit. Odd passages, too, between pertinacious counsel and nettled judges sometimes occurred, as when Mr. H. J. Boulton, fresh from the Inner Temple, sat down at the peremptory order of the Chief Justice, but added, "I will sit down, my Lord, but I shall instantly stand up again." Chief Justice Powell, when on the Bench, had a humorous way occasionally, of indicating by a kind of quiet by-play, by a gentle shake of the head, a series of little nods, or movements of the eye or eyebrow, his estimate of an outré hypothesis or an ad captandum argument. This was now and then disconcerting to advocates anxious to figure, for the moment, in the eyes of a simple-minded jury, as oracles of extra authority. Nights, likewise, there would be to be described, passed by juries in the diminutive jury-room, either through perplexity fairly arising out of the evidence, or through the dogged obstinacy of an individual. Once, as we have heard from a sufferer on the occasion, Colonel Duggan was the means of keeping a jury locked up for a night here, he being the sole dissentient on a particular point. That night, however, was converted into one of memorable festivity, our informant said, a tolerable supply of provisions and comforts having been conveyed in through the window, sent for from the homes of those of the jury who were residents of York. The recusant Colonel was refused a moment's rest throughout the live-long night. During twelve long hours pranks and sounds were indulged in that would have puzzled a foreigner taking notes of Canadian Court House usages.