“I work.”
“What at?”
“I weave, sew, bake, and work in my garden.”
“My men made note of your large and comfortable cabin, even luxurious, considering this country. How is that?”
“My husband left me comfortable.”
Judge Stone shook a warning finger at the defendant.
“Suppose I were to sentence you to jail for perjury? For a year? Far from your home and children! Would you speak—tell the truth?”
“I am telling the truth. I can't speak what I don't know.... Send me to jail.”
Baffled, with despairing, angry impatience, Judge Stone waved the woman away.
“That will do for her. Fetch the next one,” he said.