ing my money in my hand, and he still grasping my

wrist."

5. Then spoke the oil-merchant: "This man came to purchase oil from me. When his bottle was filled he said, 'Have you change for a piece of gold?' I searched my pocket, and drew out my hand full of money, which I laid on a bench in my shop. He seized it, and was walking off with my money. and my oil, when I caught him by the wrist, and cried out 'Robber!' In spite of my cries, however, he would not surrender the money; so I brought him here, that your worship might decide the case."

6. The cadi caused each to repeat his story, but neither varied one jot from his original statement. He reflected for a moment, and then said, "Leave the money with me, and return to-morrow." The butcher placed the coins, which he had never let go, on the edge of the cadi's mantle. After which, he and his opponent bowed and departed.

7. It was now the turn of Bou-Akas and the cripple. "My lord cadi," said the former, "I came hither from a distant country. At the city gate I met this cripple, who first asked for alıns, and then prayed me to allow him to ride behind me through the streets, lest he should be trodden down in the crowd. I consented, but when we reached the market-place he refused to get down, asserting that my horse belonged to him, and that your lordship would surely adjudge it to him who wanted it most."

8. Then spoke the cripple. "My lord," said he, "as I was coming on business to the market, and riding this horse, which belongs to me, I saw this man seated by the roadside, apparently half dead from fatigue. I offered to let him ride with me as far as the market-place, and he eagerly thanked me. But, on our arrival, he refused to get down, and said that the horse was his. I immediately required him to appear before your worship, in order that you might decide between us."

9. Having required each to make oath to his statement,

and having reflected for a moment, the cadi said, "Leave the horse here, and return to-morrow.' It was done, and Bou-Akas and the cripple withdrew in different directions.

1. ON the morrow, a number of persons, besides those immediately in'terested in the trials, assembled to hear the judge's decisions. The taleb, or learned man, and the peasant, were called first. "Take away thy wife," said the cadi to the former, "and keep her, I advise thee, in good order." Then turning towards an officer, he added, pointing to the peasant, "Give this man fifty blows." He was instantly obeyed, and the taleb carried off his wife.

2. Then came forward the oil-merchant and the butcher. "Here," said the cadi to the butcher, "is thy money; it is truly thine, and not his." Then pointing to the oil-merchant, he said to his officer, "Give this man fifty blows." It was done, and the butcher went away in triumph with his money.

3. The third cause was called, and Bou-Akas and the cripple came forward. "Wouldst thou recognize thy horse among twenty others?" said the judge to BouAkas. "Yes, my lord."-" And thou?"-" Certainly, my lord," replied the cripple." Follow me," said the cadi to Bou-Akas. They entered a large stable, and Bou-Akas pointed out his horse amongst the twenty which were standing side by side.

4. ""T is well," said the judge. "Return now to the tribunal, and send me thine adversary hither." The disguised sheik obeyed, delivered his message, and the cripple hastened to the stable, as quickly as his distorted limbs allowed. He had quick eyes and a good memory, so that he was able, without the slightest hesitation, to place his hand on the right animal.

5. ""Tis well," said the cadi; "return to the tribunal." The cadi soon afterwards resumed his place, and, when the cripple arrived, judgment was pronounced. "The horse is thine," said the cadi to Bou-Akas; "go to the stable and take him." Then to the officer, "Give this cripple fifty blows." It was done; and Bou-Akas went to take his horse.

6. When the cadi, after concluding the business of the day, was retiring to his house, he found Bou-Akas waiting for him. "Art thou discontented with my award?" asked the judge. "No, quite the contrary," replied the sheik. "But I want to ask by what inspiration thou hast rendered justice; for I doubt not that the other two causes were decided as equitably as mine. I am not a merchant; I am Bou-Akas, sheik of the twelve tribes, and I wanted to judge for myself of thy reputed wisdom."

7. The cadi bowed to the ground, and kissed his master's hand. "I am anxious," said Bou-Akas, "to know the reasons which determined your three decisions."—"Nothing, my lord," replied the cadi, "can be more simple. Your highness saw that I detained for a night the three things in dispute?" "I did."

8. "Well, early in the morning I caused the woman to be called, and I said to her, suddenly, 'Put fresh ink in my inkstand.' Like a person who had done the same thing a hundred times before, she took the bottle, removed the cotton, washed them both, put in the cotton again, and poured in fresh ink, doing it all with the utmost neatness and dexterity. So I said to myself, A peasant's wife would know nothing about inkstands—she must belong to the taleb.'" 9. "Good!" said Bou-Akas, nodding his head. "And the money?" "Did your highness remark," asked the cadi, "that the merchant had his clothes and hands covered with oil?" 66 Certainly I did." "Well; I took the money, and placed it in a vessel filled with water. This morning I looked at it, and not a particle of oil was to be

seen on the surface of the water. So I said to myself, 'If this money belonged to the oil-merchant, it would be greasy, from the touch of his hands; as it is not so, the butcher's story must be true.'"

10. Bou-Akas nodded in token of approval. "Good!" said he. "And my horse?". "Ah! that was a different business; and, until this morning, I was greatly puzzled." "The cripple, I suppose, did not recognize the animal?" remarked the sheik. "On the contrary," said the cadi, "he pointed him out immediately."-"How, then, did you discover that he was not the owner?"

11. "My object," replied the cadi, "in bringing you separately to the stable, was not to see whether you would know the horse, but whether the horse would acknowledge you. Now, when you approached him, the creature turned towards you, laid back his ears, and neighed with delight; but when the cripple touched him, he kicked. Then I knew that you were truly his master."

12. Bou-Akas thought for a moment, and then said, "Allah has given thee great wisdom. Thou oughtest to be in my place, and I in thine. And yet, I know not; thou art certainly worthy to be sheik, but I fear that I should but badly fill thy place as cadi!"

1. We all might do good where we often do ill:
There is always the way, if there be but the will;
Though it be but a word kindly breathed or suppressed,
It may guard off some pain, or give peace to some breast.

2. We all might do good, whether lowly or great;
For the deed is not gauged by the purse or estate.
If it be but a cup of cold water that 's given,

Like the widow's two mites, it is something for heaven.

XCII.

THE INDIAN AND THE STOLEN VENISON.

1. A NORTH AMERICAN Indian, upon returning home to his cabin, discovered that his venison, which had been hung up to dry, was stolen. After taking his observations on the spot, he set off in pursuit of the thief, whom he tracked through the woods.

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2. Meeting with some persons on his route, he inquired if they had seen a little old white man with a short gun, and accompanied by a small dog with a bob-tail. They answered in the affirmative; and, upon the Indian assuring them that the man thus described had stolen his venison, they desired to be informed how he was able to give so minute a description of a person whom, it appeared, he had

never seen.

3. The Indian replied, "The thief, I know, is a little man, by his having heaped up a pile of stones to stand upon in order to reach the venison from the height at which 1 hung it while standing on the ground; that he is an old man, I know by his short steps, which I have traced over the dead leaves in the woods; and that he is a white man, I know by his turning out his toes when he walks which an Indian never does.

4. "His gun I know to be short, from the mark which the muzzle made by rubbing the bark of the tree against which it had leant; that his dog is small, I know by his track; and that he has a bob-tail, I discovered by the mark it made in the dust, where he was sitting while his master was busied about my meat."

XCIII. THE PAINTER'S SERVANT.

1. SIR JAMES THORNHILL, a distinguished painter, was employed in decorating the interior of the dome of St. Paul's Ca-the'dral. One day, to observe the effect of a certain part of his work, he moved backwards from it along