THE WASPS. 99

The son now returned, bringing with him a number
of judicial properties, such as red boxes to hold the
votes and the like, and he set a basin of gruel by the
fire, for the old man to refresh himself with. Every-
thing being ready, Philocleon said, “Call the first
case; I have been waiting a long time.” This de-
mand puzzled the son not a little. Who was to be
tried? Who in the household had committed a fault ?
Well, the Thracian maid had burnt the pitcher.
While he was meditating whether he should not be-
gin with her, Philocleon discovered to his horror that
the judges were not railed off from the rest of the
court. To go on without the rails was impossible;
he would go and find some fer himself. Bdelycleon -
was meditating on the force of habit, when one of
the slaves cried out, “‘Confound the dog! Why do
they keep such a brute as that?”

Bdel. “Why, what has happened?”

Stave. “Pincher has got to the safe and stolen a
rich Sicilian cheese.”

Bdel. “Was he? Then that shall be the first case
for my father to try. You shall be prosecutor.”

Slave. “Not I, thank you. The other cur says
he will prosecute with pleasure.”

At this point the old man returned with some rail-
ings from the pigsty, two bowls for voting-urns, and
everything at last was complete. So important a
business, however, could not be inaugurated without
sacrifice and prayer. Philocleon called for frankin-