In this order was found an action brought by a villager named Sroda against Pan Floss. It happened that Sroda's oxen, having filled themselves in the night with Pan Floss's clover, toward morning left this vale of tears and misery, and transferred themselves to a better and an ox world. Sroda, in despair, brought the whole sad case before the court, and implored justice and deliverance.
The court penetrated to the depth of the subject, and, with a quickness peculiar to itself, came to the conviction that, though Sroda had let his cattle into Pan Floss's field intentionally, still, if on that field there had been growing, for example, grass or wheat, not that "vile clover," the oxen would have enjoyed to that moment the best and most desirable health, and certainly would not have experienced those sad attacks of inflation to which they had fallen victims.
Starting from this major premise, and passing by a road, as logical as it was legal, to the minor premise, the court decided that in every case, not Sroda had caused the death of the oxen, but Pan Floss; therefore Pan Floss should pay Sroda for his oxen, and, as a warning for the future, he was to pay into the village treasury five rubles for the support of the chancery. The above-mentioned sum, in case the defendant refused payment, was to be taken from his dairy farmer, Itska Zweinos.
Next were decided several cases of a civil nature, all of which, in so far as they did not touch nearly or remotely the genial Zolzik, were decided with entire independence, and on the scales of pure justice hung on sound Barania-Glova reason.
Thanks, therefore, to the English principle of non-intervention, which was adhered to by the afore-mentioned "intelligence," the general harmony and unanimity was disturbed only by passing remarks touching paralysis, the decaying of intestines, and the plague, which were uttered in the form of wishes by the litigating parties as well as by the judges themselves.
I consider that, thanks also to this priceless principle of non-intervention, all disputes could be decided in this way, that the side gaining, as well as the side losing, paid always a certain sum, relatively rather large, "to the chancery." This insured indirectly that which is so desirable in village institutions, the independence of the mayor and the secretary, and had the virtue to wean the people from litigiousness, and raise the morality of Barania-Glova to a level of which eighteenth-century philosophers dreamed in vain. This also is worthy of attention (we refrain from expressing praise or blame), that Pan Zolzik always entered in his books only one half of the sum destined for the chancery, the other half was set aside for "unforeseen circumstances," in which the secretary, the mayor, and councilman Gomula might find themselves.
Finally, the court proceeded to judge criminal cases; in consequence of this they ordered the village policeman to bring in the prisoners and place them in presence of the court. I need not add that in Barania-Glova the newest system of imprisonment was adopted,—the system most consistent with the demands of civilization, namely, solitary confinement. This cannot be put in doubt by evil tongues. To-day any one may convince himself that in the mayor's pen at Barania-Glova there are as many as four divisions. The prisoners sit in these separately, in company with animals of which a certain zoology, for the use of youth, states, "The pig, an animal justly so called because of its uncleanness, etc.," and to which nature has denied horns absolutely, which may also serve as a proof of its wisdom. Here prisoners sat in apartments only with companions, which, as is known, could not hinder them from yielding themselves to reflection, thinking over the evil they had done, and undertaking a change of life.
The policeman went without delay to that prison of cells, and from those cells brought before the face of the court, not two male criminals, but a man and a woman; from this the reader may infer easily how delicate was the nature, and how psychologically involved were the cases which the court of Barania-Glova had to decide at times. In truth, this affair was very delicate,—
A certain Romeo, otherwise named Vah Rehnio, and a certain Juliet, otherwise called Baska Jabianka, worked together with an agriculturist, one as a serving-man, the other as a maid-servant. And, what is the use of concealment, they fell in love, being unable to live without each other, just as Nevazendeh [11] could not live without Bezevandeha. [11] Soon, however, jealousy crept in between Romeo and Juliet; for the latter once saw Romeo stopping too long with Yagna of the mansion-house. Thenceforth, the unfortunate Juliet was merely waiting for her opportunity. So on a certain day, when Romeo came from the field too early, according to Juliet's thinking, and asked for his supper with insistence, matters came to an outburst and explanations on both sides, whereby there was an interchange of some dozens of blows of the fist and of a pot-ladle. The traces of these blows were to be seen in blue spots on the ideal face of Juliet, as well as on the cut forehead of Romeo, which was full of manly pride. The court had to declare on whose side was justice, and which was to pay the other five zlotys, or, speaking more correctly, seventy copecks silver, in compensation for deceit in love, and the results of the outburst.
The corrupt breath of the West had not been able yet to embrace the sound mental character of the court; hence, disgusted to the bottom of their souls with emancipation of woman, as a thing hostile, and revolting to the more ideal disposition of the Slavs, the judges gave the right of speech, first, to Romeo, who, holding his cut forehead, began,—