“Well, says I, ‘Judy, I should like to see the hen that lays such eggs as that; let’s go and look at it.’ So we went to the firkin, and, sure enough, there was the hole in the middle of the butter where she took the stone out. Says I, ‘Judy, I guess it’s best to probe that are wound a little more, as the doctors say.’ So I took a knife and run down into the butter a little further, and struck on another stone; and we went to work and dug that out; and after we cut round enough to be satisfied there wasn’t any more, we took the two and weighed ’em, and found they weighed fourteen pounds lacking two ounces. ‘Well,’ says I, ‘Judy, this matter aint agoin’ to stop short of the Gineral Court.’ She thought I better hush it up, cause it would hurt Miss Andrews’ feelin’s; but I told her no, honesty’s the best policy, and fair play’s a jewel, and if Miss Andrews isn’t old enough to know that yet, it is time she was larnt it, and if I don’t carry her into the Gineral Court, it’s because my name isn’t Nicholas Davis. And that’s pretty much all I know about it.” “The case is every way clear,” said the first judge; “it seems to be hardly worth while to go any further. But Mrs. Davis may take the stand a few minutes; the court would like to ask her a few plain questions.” Mrs. Davis was accordingly sworn, and took the stand. “How do you know,” said the judge, “that the stones were not put into the butter after the tub was brought to your house?” “Because they couldn’t be,” said Mrs. Davis. “I didn’t do it, and Hannah didn’t do it, and Polly didn’t do it; and there wasn’t nobody else that could do it.” “Well, how do you know that Mrs. Andrews did it?” said the judge. “Because,” said Mrs. Davis, “it’s jest like her. She loves fine clothes, and fine clothes costs money; and so she always will have money; and so I know as well as can be she did it.” “Very true,” said the judge, “this love of finery is the cause of a world of crime. You may describe a little more particularly how you first found the stones.”