"A cow hasn't much intelligence," observed Tutt. "And they tried fleas," added Mr. Tutt. "They have a lot!" commented his junior partner. "I knew a flea once, who--" "They had a regular form of procedure," continued Mr. Tutt, brushing the flea aside, "which was adhered to with the utmost technical accuracy. You could try an individual animal, either in person or by proxy, or you could try a whole family, swarm or herd. If a town was infested by rats, for example, they first assigned counsel--an advocate, he was called--and then the defendants were summoned three times publicly to appear. If they didn't show up on the third and last call they were tried _in absentia_, and if convicted were ordered out of the country before a certain date under penalty of being exorcised." "What happened if they were exorcised?" asked Tutt curiously. "It depended a good deal on the local power of Satan," answered the old lawyer dryly. "Sometimes they became even more prolific and destructive than they were before, and sometimes they promptly died. All the leeches were prosecuted at Lausanne in 1451. A few selected representatives were brought into court, tried, convicted and ordered to depart within a fixed period. Maybe they didn't fully grasp their obligations or perhaps were just acting contemptuously, but they didn't depart and so were promptly exorcised. Immediately they began to die off and before long there were none left in the country." "I know some rats and mice I'd like to have exorcised," mused Tutt. "At Autun in the fifteenth century the rats won their case," said Mr. Tutt. "Who got 'em off?" asked Tutt. "M. Chassensée, the advocate appointed to defend them. They had been a great nuisance and were ordered to appear in court. But none of them turned up. M. Chassensée therefore argued that a default should not be taken because _all_ the rats had been summoned, and some were either so young or so old and decrepit that they needed more time. The court thereupon granted him an extension. However, they didn't arrive on the day set, and this time their lawyer claimed that they were under duress and restrained by bodily fear--of the townspeople's cats. That all these cats, therefore should first be bound over to keep the peace! The court admitted the reasonableness of this, but the townsfolk refused to be responsible for their cats and the judge dismissed the case!" "What did Chassensée get out of it?" inquired Tutt. "There is no record of who paid him or what was his fee." "He was a pretty slick lawyer," observed Tutt. "Did they ever try birds?" "Oh, yes!" answered Mr. Tutt. "They tried a cock at Basel in 1474--for the crime of laying an egg." "Why was that a crime?" asked Tutt. "I should call it a _tour de force_."