A Stork was appointed President, his cold-blooded patience and stolidity rendering him not unworthy of that honour. Perched motionless on his chair with his eyes half shut, his breast puffed out, his head thrown back, he carefully watched for any contradictory statements made by the accused, and looked as if in ambush on the borders of some swamp. The post of Attorney-General had fallen to a wry-necked Vulture. This personage, if he ever possessed any sensibility, had long forgotten its influence. Ardent and pitiless, his only thought was to obtain success, or in other words conviction; his claws and beak were ever ready to attack but never to defend. The court of assizes was a field of battle, and the prisoner a foe who must be subdued at any price. He proceeded to a criminal trial like a soldier to an assault, throwing himself into the case like a gladiator into the arena. In short, the Vulture makes an admirable Attorney-General. {297} The inhabitants of the holes, nests, copses, molehills, and neighbouring marshes flocked in crowds to attend these judicial ceremonies, while Geese, Bitterns, Buzzards, and Magpies swelled the throng. {298} This is the way of the world. Seats were reserved for the representatives of the press—Ducks and Parrots most of them. With what eagerness these gentry hurried to their places! A reporter pounces upon a horrible trial as if it were his lawful prey. When such an occasion presents itself, the regular staff find themselves no longer obliged to task their imaginations, to cudgel their well-worn brains. Copy is supplied to them ready-made, needing no fresh spice to suit the public taste, but rather abounding in dramatic incidents, such as the journalists could never have invented themselves; so the editor can proudly cry out to his printer, “Strike off 10,000 additional sheets!” [Illustration] It is needless to describe in detail the whole business of the session. We will set aside the proceedings against a jolly Dog, who in a moment of excitement bit the tail off a rival in front of a tavern; against a Peacock for assuming an aristocratic title not his own, a Magpie for theft, a Cat for unlawful trespass on private tiles, a French Cock for stirring up hatred against the constituted government, a Fox for fraudulent bankruptcy. We will content ourselves by noticing the two leading trials, saying with a Rat of our acquaintance, who had gnawed his knowledge out of a book-worm’s library, _Musa mehi causus memora_. In a recent issue of “The Microcosm,” a journal much patronised by the Ducks, one might have read the following words:—