of well-fed aldermen, and every one was astonished at the facility with which she disentangled the intricate knots of law-suits concerning the questions of mine and thine.
When the throng round the bar of justice had nearly subsided, and the sessions were drawing to a close, there appeared on the last day a neighbour of the rich Wladomir, and some deputies from the sporting Mizislas, asking for an audience to make a complaint.
The freeholder first spoke: “An industrious planter,” he said, “once enclosed a small piece of ground on the banks of a large river, whose silvery floods flowed smoothly down into the gay valley. He thought the beautiful river would serve him on that side as a protection, so that the voracious game could not destroy his sown fields, and would water the roots of his fruit trees, so that they would rapidly grow and bring forth luxurious fruit. But when the work of his hands had begun to bring him some profit, the treacherous river became muddy, its formerly quiet waters began to overflow, inundating and carrying away one piece after another of the fertile field, and making itself a bed in the middle of the fruitful land, to the great sorrow of the poor planter, who was compelled to give up his pro-