SERVED A PROCESS AND MET A GUN.

Shannon News, 25 June 1926, Page 3

SERVED A PROCESS AND MET A GUN.

"The man ran into the bedroom and I followed. He grabbed a gun, and I hit him underneath the chin with my fist. He pretended to be in a fit, so my fellow bailiff and I carried him outside and threatened to throw him into a creek, to cure him of his 'fit.' This brought him round wonderfully."

So said the chief bailiff of the Christchurch Magistrate's Court to a M Star" reporter who sought information as to how summonses were served, and the reception of such service. "That has been the only .time in my sixteen years' experience in Christchurch when I have been threatened with physical damage," he continued. "The man was in his stables at the time .and he pleaded for another opportunity to pay. When he walked to the door he made a dive for his house, calling out that I was welcome to catch him if I could. I gave it a try, at any rate, but he reached the bedroom first. His wife called out to me that he had a gun. This was true, ■and it might have been loaded, so 1 took the best course possible. He soon came to life when we threatened to put him in the creek, and he paid up all right." There was a "clothes line" at the court, continued the bailiff, where we put up summonses which people promised to call in and meet. They generally did so. The "washing day" appeared to be a big one at times, but the "hardy annuals" (those who received a summons on the average about once a month) always turned up to take the "washing" in. One of these annuals was hardier than the rest. "There is a summons waiting for you," he would be informed. "Right," he would reply, "that'll be another to paper the parlour with."

The bailiffs are entrusted with the serving of processes for the non-pay-ment of debts, and warrants of committal to persons under imprisonment for the same cause. Some people, when served, have the mistaken idea that no service can be made after sundown, or on holidays. The only days on which summonses cannot be served are Suriday, Good Friday, Christmas Day, and Anzac Day.

The sight of the bailiff, even in his civil clothes, inspires terror in the hearts of some people, and the summons completes the despair. The bailiffs are full of tact, and generally manage to allay the terror, and to leave on good terms with all concerned. "Come and have a drink," are sometimes the debtor's last words concerning the sumomns. Others, more hardened, take the process philosophically from the start, promising it will be the last —but it isn't always. "Dozens of men seen on the racecourse," continued the bailiff, "have been in the witness box and sworn they cannot pay. I cani'e across one. man who was just going to put £lO on the tote. I saw to it that it went on his bill instead. Most of the summonses served on the course are received by visitors from other parts, such as tiainers, jockeys, and those whose activities on the course are veiled in mystery—you know what they are suspected of." The word "bailiff" is considered a misnomer as far as New Zealand is concerned, for in England this official is one employed by a peer for the collection of his rents and enforcing of duties. The old plan of bailiffs remaining in occupation of a house has been discarded, for an inventory of the goods is all that is necessary. The occupation idea is referred to in the Distress and Replevin Act, which operated as far back as 1887, and until 1913.