The court day came. Belzebub and his big staff of lawyers and witnesses were in attendance, but St. Peter wasn't up to time.
They waited for him a long time. They were impatient. Then came a messenger.
"He'll be here shortly," says the messenger. "He seems to be looking for something. He has the whole place above nearly turned upside down."
They waited on and waited on, but there was no sign of St. Peter. The judge was getting vexed. At last they saw somebody coming, running, perspiration dropping from him, his face and figure showing signs of haste and worry. It was St. Peter. He only put his head in at the door.
"Wait a few minutes longer, if you please," says he to the judge, "I may be able to do it yet." And away he raced again.
A half hour passed, then an hour, then two hours, but there was no sign of St. Peter. A messenger was sent out to watch for him. At long last the messenger shouted in through the open window:
"Here he comes!"
They all looked out and saw him coming. But it was a slow-moving, dispirited, disappointed-looking St. Peter they saw. You'd think that everyone belonging to him had just died or that he had heard some sorrowful tidings. He stopped at the door and looked sadly at the judge. Everyone was silent. St. Peter spoke.
"I give it up," says he, shaking his head, "there's no use in going on with it. I've searched Heaven seven times over, from top to bottom, from end to end and from side to side, here, there and everywhere, but in any part or portion of it I couldn't find lawyer of any description that I might ask to plead my case for me."