They both spoke at once, and the boy chimed in as well. "She's the one that's in the wrong, monsieur le commissaire." "That ain't true, for she says I stole her dog." "Of course, when I saw you." "You lie!" "And she kicked me in the fat of my leg, above the garter." "And she pinched me so she tore my dress, and you can see the marks of her nails." "Shut up, you saucy hussy! you ought to tell him that you're the cause----" "Yes, monsieur le commissaire; she's the cause of it. I've never been here before--this is the first time, I can tell you that!" The boy, who had the Limousin accent, and talked as if his mouth were full of paste, tried to put in a word: "First--sure as I stand here--for I was carrying my--my basket, and I saw her!" To add to the confusion, the dog began to yelp. "Very good," said the magistrate, with a smile, for he saw that the affair was of no consequence. "I judge that a dog is the subject of your dispute. Well, we will follow Solomon's example, cut him in two, and give half to each of you." "That's right!" cried the bulky mass, trying to laugh, until her enormous paunch seemed on the point of bursting. "There's no way but cutting him in two." "The deuce! I should say that you are not the real mother." "Oh! monsieur le commissaire, I was joking when I said that; but he's my dog. I've got witnesses, too." "Oh, yes!" cried the thin woman; "and the very first man that came into your shop, when you said to him: 'Ain't that my dog?' answered: 'I never saw him.'" "She lies! she lies! it is my dog. Everybody knows him; and then, he was with François, my son here;--come, François, make your deposition." François opened his mouth and moved his lips a long while before he could find a word to say, his excitement had such a powerful effect on his mental faculties; at last, he muttered in a thick voice: "First--sure as I stand here--as I was going along with my basket, I thought the dog was behind me--and she grabbed him, and run off with him!" "That ain't true; he's lying, monsieur le commissaire. The dog was ahead of him--a long way ahead of him--when I saw the little creature, and I said: 'He hasn't got any master,' and I picked him up. If he was his, why didn't he say: 'That's my dog.' But he let me pick him up, and it wasn't till madame overtook him that he began to run after me and yell: 'Stop thief!'--What is there to prove that the dog belongs to them and not to me?" The magistrate, having weighed these depositions in his mind, said to the boy in a grave tone: "Put the dog on the floor, and let both of these ladies call him; I will give him to the one he follows."