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When Madhav returned from his garden, where he had parted with his cousin, he found a messenger waiting for him with a letter which he said was "Zaruri." Madhav tore it open with eagerness, and devoured its contents. It was from his lawyer at the Sadar station of his district. We will endeavour to give a literal translation of this epistle, interspersing it with the remarks Madhav made as he read.

"All of them" thought Madhav, "aye, you may say so, lawyer, for my cases are all just. But it is not in the nature of our courts to be right in every case, so I fear, I must take my lawyer's dictum with some allowance. He is an able fellow, however, and manages cases excellently, I must confess.—I heartily wish all this mummery were at an end, but my neighbours must drag me to law. But what next?" The letter proceeded—

"It gives me great pain to have to inform you that this day, your aunt has by proxy instituted a