that of mr. justice dear's little joke and the

unfortunate man who could not see it.

again of mr. justice dear

my harmless numbers flowing,

shall tell a story somewhat queer

about his worship, showing,

how sensitive the legal wit.

it is. there is no doubt of it.

before good justice dear one day

a man—for some small matter,

was hailed, and, in his own sly way

(the former, not the latter)

made,—and i thought the court would choke,—

an unpremeditated joke.

the prosecuting counsel roared,

the jury giggled madly,

only the prisoner looked bored,

he took it rather sadly.

"why don't you laugh?" the usher said,

the prisoner, he shook his head.

"i cannot see," said he, "that's flat—

a fact that's most annoying,—

what everyone is laughing at,

and seemingly enjoying."

this strange remark, it reached his ear

and irritated justice dear.

"when i am pleased to make a joke

that's not the way to treat it."

thus, warningly, his worship spoke,

"now listen! i'll repeat it."

he did. he said it o'er and o'er.

at least a dozen times or more.

"excuse me, sir," the prisoner said,

"at what may you be driving?"

good justice dear turned very red,

"this joke of my contriving,

if you don't see it, sir, you ought;

if not—well—'tis contempt of court."

the counsel then explained it, but

quite failed the point to show him;

the usher muttered "tut-tut-tut!"

the jury whispered "blow him!"

then several people wrote it down.

the prisoner still wore a frown.

"am i supposed to laugh at that?

why? i can't see the reason."

it was too much. his lordship sat

aghast. "'tis almost treason!

that unpremeditated joke before

has never failed to raise a roar.

"defective in morality,

must be that man misguided,

who fails its brilliancy to see."

his lordship then decided

to send the man,—despite his tears,—

to servitude, for twenty years.