MISCELLANEA. 675 
inflamed state. He could find nothing the matter with the preserved 
liver. 
Mr. John Batt was recalled, and caused considerable amusement by 
pertinaciously insisting that the new and healthy lung produced was 
unsound. 
Mr. Stone —Now, Mr. Batt, be good enough to look at that [the 
sound] piece of lung, and tell me what you, as a practical man, think 
of it ? 
Witness (carefully examining it)—This is pretty nearly as Isawit 
before (laughter). 
Mr. Stone —You can see no tubercles there ? 
Witness —Certainly not. Sir. 
Mr. Stone —Is there anything peculiar about it? 
Witness (examining it again for several seconds)—Oh, yes ; I should 
say there was. It is in an inflammatory state, just as when I saw it at 
Mr. Parry’s (loud laughter). 
Mr. Stone —I won’t trouble you with another question, Mr. Batt. 
The learned counsel then replied upon the whole case, and 
The Judge summed up, especially directing the jury that the guinea 
paid to the veterinary surgeon was not recoverable, as it was paid for 
services rendered after the cow’s death, and, so to speak, not for en¬ 
deavouring to “ keep it alive.” 
The jury consulted a considerable time, and then requested further 
information as to the alleged tubercles. 
Mr. Kent was accordingly recalled, and again pointed out their 
existence in the preserved lung, and practically explained their forma¬ 
tion, result, &c. 
The jury again deliberated, and found a verdict for the plaintiff for 
£10, 11s. 6d., the difference between the price paid for the cow and the 
sum realised by the sale of the carcass and calf. 
MISCELLANEA. 
A BEE STORY. 
Though our beautiful country is happily in the enjoyment 
of a state of peace, a circumstance has recently occurred in 
our quiet little town on the hill (Coleshill) where the battle 
raged as furiously, while it lasted, as any yet recorded as 
taking place between the rival hosts who are striving 
“ To feed the crows on Italy’s fair plain, 
And fertilise the field they each pretend to gain/* 
At the residence of a gentleman named Perceval (brother 
to the gifted and unfortunate statesman of that name who, 
half a century ago, fell by the hand of the assassin Belling¬ 
ham, in the lobby of the House of Commons,) a swarm of 
bees having been successfully housed, the hive was placed, 
covered with a cloth, on the grass-plot in front of the house. 
Mr. Perceval has a donkey, and as iC the fates” would have it, 
the animal was at the time tethered and quietly browsing 
in close proximity to the hive. Whether it was that Jack” 
inquisitively put his nose underneath the covering, or that 
the bees considered him as encroaching too near their new 
