village, where, enthroned as judge, he examines,
cross-examines, corrects, and directs those in
their parts who are to appear in the real court and
give their testimony regarding what they know,
or are to pretend to know, on the day of trial.

Kandir Kathergamer and Kasiar Tambyar are
neighbours. There has for some time past been
a growing ill feeling between these two worthies
and their families. They are joint shareholders
in a palmyra garden: that is to say, the one has
an undivided share in it to the extent, as he
says, of l-4th of 3-9ths of 2-32ds by inheritance,
and 2-473ds in favour of his wife; the other
has some equally minute sub-division; and there
is a difference of opinion between them as to the
ownership of one particular tree. The palmyra
season is fully come. Every five minutes you
hear a "flop" in all the gardens, and then
there is a rush of two or three persons, and
perhaps a shout, and a cry, and a row; and if you
inquire what it is about, you are told that this
is a fruit, that, like the apple of discord, has
fallen from a palmyra-tree, about which there is
a dispute, and the struggle is which disputing
shareholder shall basket the prize.

Our worthy neighbours aforesaid, whom, for
the sake of brevity, we will call K. and T.,
have each set one of their offspring to watch
the falling fruit, with strict injunctions to hold
their own. Young Master K., his mother's
pride, squats under a tree, basket beside him,
and beguiles the time by tearing asunder with
his teeth one of the yellow-coloured stringy
fruits, till his face and hands are a fine rich
ochre. Miss T., a young lady about four years
Master K.'s senior, who knows how to make
good use of her nails, takes up her position.
The tree in dispute lies between them.

"Flop" goes a fruit behind Master K., up
jumps Miss T., but sits down again; the fruit
has fallen from a tree that is without dispute
in K.'s domain. Master K. therefore
appropriates it unmolested.

Presently there is a flop from one of Miss
T.'s trees, and up she jumps and pursues the
bounding ball till she has secured it.

At last, "flop" comes a fruit from the tree;
up jump both, and make a rush at it. It
rolls towards Master K., and thus far doth fortune
favour him; but, too wise a strategist to
leave unguarded his already secured fruits, he
runs, dragging his half-filled basket after him.
So likewise does Miss T. Master K. seizes the
prize, or rather he stoops to seize it, and his
hand is just upon it, when down comes Miss T.
like a wolf on the fold, gives him a shove, and
over he goes, basket and all, and she gets hold of
the fruit; round he turns quick as thought, and
gives her a punch in the side; down go her
basket and nuts, and in a moment her ten claws
are in unpleasant proximity to Master K.'s
eyes. "My father and mother, I am dead!"
cries he. Out rushes his fond paternal parent,
his mother following with shrieks. Out come
Mr. and Mrs. T. from their abode, and in no
time Mr. K. has laid a short thick stick over
Mrs. T.'s head, and left her stunned and bleeding:
while he and Mr. T. are rolling over each
other on the ground, their long hair streaming
about them. In rush the neighbours, and
separate them. Loud is the strife of words, foul
beyond expression the abuse by the females.
"To the court with your wounded wife," says a
friend; and away they go to their respective
houses, screaming at each other all the while,
and a swift runner is despatched to the Police
Vidahn by the party of Mr. T., who, having
wounds and blood to show, is in the better
position. "This will never do," says K.'s elder
brother, a veteran litigant. "You, too, must
have blood and bruises to show." "Well, you
see I have a scratch here and a thump there,
and I am all over sand and dirt," says K.
"Oh, that's good as far as it goes, but it is not
enough; we must do some more. Come here,"
says he to Master K. the valiant, who began the
affray; "let me see your face."

Master K., unsuspicious of evil, submits
to his uncle's inspection, and in a second his
worthy relative has drawn a sharp little knife
over an inch of Master K.'s forehead, and the
red blood comes streaming down.

"That will do," says he; "now carry him off
to court before the others are ready. Get there
first, and say T. did it with a kai-katty" (a formidable
kind of cleaver, much used by the natives).

Off starts the procession, Master K. carried
in the arms of his afflicted father, every
drop of blood on his face carefully preserved to
create the greater sensation, his head thrown
back, his eyes languidly closed, his lips
partially open, his hands dangling feebly by his
side. Close behind him comes his maternal
parent, "a Niobe, all tears," her dishevelled
locks streaming over her shoulders, her head
unveiled, all appearances disregarded in the
affliction of the moment. Straight into the
compound of the magistrate they rush, while
other relatives follow, and a crowd collected on
the way gathers round the gate.

"Oh, my Lord!" cries Mrs. K., and falls
prostrate on the floor before the gentleman, and
straightway Mr. K. lays his seemingly senseless
burden before the "Doray."

If that functionary has had some experience,
and suspects that Master K. is shamming,
he will, perhaps, unexpectedly apply a
little smelling-salts to his nose, and will then
find out the trick. But, if very green, he will
probably be taken in, and, after having given
several very stringent orders for the
apprehension of the accused, he will, just as he
has gone inside again, be roused by Mr. T. and
his party, bringing Mrs. T. in a sort of palanquin,
with her head cut open. Both parties
then enter cases against each other, and the
magistrate has, amidst the most conflicting
testimony, to determine whether both cases
are true or both false, or which is true and
which is false.

There is no exaggeration in the above story;
it is what happens daily. I bear in mind especially
one case in which a man, after cutting a
woman's forehead open, in a garden at three P.M.,