The Judge Is Reversed Read Online Free PDF

said. “He certainly does seem to—crop up.”
    â€œâ€˜Many readers of the Times,’ ” Pam read, “‘must have been shocked, as I was shocked, by its acceptance of the recently published advertisement of the organization calling itself “The Committee Against Cruelty.” Even in its advertising columns, it seems to me and must seem to many, a newspaper of the stature of the Times owes a responsibility to society as a whole, and is required to consider the public interest.
    â€œâ€˜No one questions the right of Floyd Ackerman, who lists himself as chairman of this “Committee,” and others associated with him to hold whatever views they wish on vivisection, and to seek to promulgate them. But what they are doing in this advertisement is, in effect, crying “Fire!” in a crowded theater. It is there, as one of our most distinguished jurists long ago pointed out, that the right of free speech ends.
    â€œâ€˜I refer, of course, to the advertisement’s disparaging references to the value of the vaccine which has already done so much to curb infantile paralysis, and this at a time when health authorities are bending every effort to bring about universal inoculation. And this because the development of the vaccine has cost the lives of many monkeys! It is difficult to believe that sentimentality has ever been carried to more dangerous lengths, and that the Times has abetted an attitude so essentially immoral.
    â€œâ€˜I cannot, I think, be accused of indifference to animal sufferings. Rather notoriously, I am addicted to cats, and have written a good deal about them. I am a member of several organizations which seek more humane treatment of all our animal friends. But I cannot understand anyone who sets the life of a monkey—yes, or even the life of a cat—above that of a child. I am rather glad I can’t.’”
    Pam stopped, looked up and awaited comment.
    â€œA little heavy-handed,” Jerry said, speaking as an editor. “But rather a nice sting in the tail, I think. Ackerman’ll be boiling, if I know Ackerman.”
    â€œAll right,” Pam said, after blinking twice, “do you know Ackerman?”
    â€œOddly enough,” Jerry said. “He brought us a book a while back. ‘Criminals in White Coats,’ he wanted to call it. Very upset when we said we guessed not. If you’re through with the sports section, I’d like to see what Danzig—”
    â€œIn due time,” Pam said. “Ackerman first.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause,” Pam said, “all at once everything’s full of Mr. Blanchard. I’m beginning to have feelings.”
    â€œNot that!” Jerry said. “But, all right. About Ackerman—”
    Ackerman had come, in person, to the offices of North Books, Inc., several months before—some time, as Jerry recalled it, in late June. He had come bearing manuscript, a thing which happens even to the best of publishers. He had been—it was to be assumed he still was—a pale and intense man in his middle forties; a very thin man; a man who wore large glasses and, when excited, trembled. He was already excited when, after subterfuge had been exhausted, he was admitted to Jerry’s office. He put the manuscript on Jerry’s desk and stood on the other side of the desk, shaking with fervor.
    â€œWe get all kinds,” Jerry told Pam, with resignation. “Ackerman was a bit—excessive. So damned excessive he’s a splinter group more or less by himself.”
    He had, for one thing, suggested that he, then and there, read the book aloud to Gerald North. Jerry had pleaded the pressure of other duties. Ackerman had, then, offered to read sections. He had begun to untie the manuscript—it was loose-paged, and bound with string—and, it seemed to Jerry, his eyes had begun to glitter behind the large glasses.
    â€œFanatics are one