"Not directly," responded Tutt. "Though you will doubtless find it entertaining enough, but indirectly--atmospherically so to speak--it touches upon doctrines of jurisprudence, of religion and of philosophy, replete with historic fascination." "Good!" exclaimed Mr. Tutt, laying down his stogy. "What kind of a case is it?" "It's a dog case!" said the junior partner, waving the paper. "The dog bit somebody." "Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Tutt, perceptibly brightening. "Doubtless we shall find a precedent in Oliver Goldsmith's famous elegy: "And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree." "Only," explained Tutt, "in this case, though the man recovered of the bite, the dog refused to die!" "And so they want to prosecute the dog? It can't be done. An animal hasn't been brought to the bar of justice for several centuries." "No, no!" interrupted Tutt. "They don't--" "There was a case," went on Mr. Tutt reminiscently "Let me see--at Sauvigny, I think it was--about 1457, when they tried a sow and three pigs for killing a child. The court assigned a lawyer to defend her, but like many assigned counsel he couldn't think of anything to say in her behalf. As regards the little pigs he did enter the plea that no animus was shown, that they had merely followed the example of their mother, and that at worst they were under age and irresponsible. However, the court found them all guilty, and the sow was publicly hanged in the market place." "What did they do with the three little pigs?" inquired Tutt with some interest. "They were pardoned on account of their extreme youth," said Mr. Tutt, "and turned loose again--with a warning." "I'm glad of that!" sighed Tutt. "Is that a real case?" "Absolutely," replied his partner. "I've read it in the Sauvigny records." "I'll be hanged!" exclaimed Tutt. "I never knew that animals were ever held personally responsible." "Why, of course they were!" said Mr. Tutt. "Why shouldn't they be? If animals have souls why shouldn't they be responsible for their acts?" "But they haven't any souls!" protested Tutt. "Haven't they now?" remarked the elder lawyer. "I've seen many an old horse that had a great deal more conscience than his master. And on general principles wouldn't it be far more just and humane to have the law deal with a vicious animal that had injured somebody than to leave its punishment to an irresponsible and arbitrary owner who might be guilty of extreme brutality?" "If the punishment would do any good--yes!" agreed Tutt. "Well, who knows?" meditated Mr. Tutt. "I wonder if it ever does any good? But anybody would have to agree that responsibility for one's acts should depend upon the degree of one's intelligence--and from that point of view many of our friends are really much less responsible than sheep."