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before the Provincial Court can sit. The order is given to the native police sergeant to beat the Mi, and straightway two huge wooden drums boom out their summons to whomever it may concern. As the drum beats become more agitated and pressing, a long file of aged natives, clad in shirt and svlu of more or less irreproachable white is seen emerging from the grove of cocoanut palms which conceal the village. The gala dresses are not a little startling. Here is a dignified old gentleman arrayed in a second hand tunic of a marine, in much the same plight as to buttons as its owner as to teeth : near by him stands a fine young village po liceman, whose official gravity is not en hanced by the swallow-tailed coat of a negro minstrel; while the background is taken up by a bevy of village maidens clad in gorgeous velvet pinafores. The court house, a native building car peted with mats, is packed with natives sit ting cross-legged, only a small place being reserved in front of the table for the accused and witnesses. The magistrate takes his seat, and his scribe, sitting on the floor at his side, prepares his writing materials to record the sentences. The dignity with which the old native magistrate adjusts his shirt collar and clears his throat is a little marred when he produces from his bosom what should have been a pair of pince-nez, seeing that it was secured by a string round his neck, but is in fact a jew's-harp. With the soft notes of this instrument the man of law is wont to beguile the tedium of a long case. The first case is called. Reiterated calls for Samuela and Timothe produce two meekfaced youths of eighteen and nineteen, who sitting tailor-fashion before the table, are charged with fowl stealing. They plead "Not guilty," and the owner of the fowls, being sworn, deposes that, having been awakened at night by the voice of a favorite hen in angry remonstrance, he ran out of his house, and after a hot chase captured the

accused red-handed in two senses, for they were plucking his hen while still alive. Quite unmoved by this tragic tale, the native mag istrate seems to listen only to the melan choly notes of the jew's-harp; but the witness is a chief and a man of influence withal, and a period of awed silence follows his accusation, broken only by the subdued twanging from the bench. But the native magistrate's eyes ?.re bright and piercing, and they have been fixed for some minutes on the wretched pris oners. He has not yet opened his lips during the case, and as the jew's-harp is not capable of much expression, it is with interest that tve awaited the sentence. Suddenly the music ceases, the instrument is withdrawn from the mouth, the oracle is about to speak. 'Mas! he utters but two words, "1'itla tolu" (three months), and there peals out a malig nant, triumphant strain from the jew's-harp. But the prosecutor starts up with a protest. One of the accused is his nephew, he ex plains, and he only wished a light sentence to be imposed. Three months for one fowl is too severe; besides, if he has three months, he must go to the central gaol and not work rmi his sentence in his own district. Again there is silence, and the jew's-harp has changed from triumph into thoughtful mel ancholy. At length it is withdrawn, and the oracle speaks again: "Bogi tolu" (three clays). The prisoners are pounced upon and dragged out by the hungry police, and after a few more cases the District Court is ad journed to make way for the Provincial. The rural police, a fine body of men dressed in uniform, take up positions at the court house doors, and the English magistrate takes his seat beside his sable colleague at the table. A number of men of lighter color and differ ent appearance are brought in and placed in a row before the table. These are the lead ing men of the island of Nathula, who are charged with slandering their Btili (chief of district). They have, in fact, been ruined by a defective knowledge of arithmetic, as we