"Whom shall we have for judge?"
"Oscar, the midget!"
The Smallest Man on Earth was quickly boosted to the top of a property box.
"Vot iss?" questioned the midget, his wizened, yellow little face wrinkling into a questioning smile.
"We are going to try this fellow, Larry, and you are to be the judge."
"Yah," agreed Oscar, after which he subsided, listening to the proceedings that followed, with grave, expressionless eyes. It is doubtful if Oscar understood what it was all about, but his gravity and judicial manner sent the whole dressing tent into an uproar of merriment.
After the evidence was all in, the entire company taking part in testifying, amid much merriment—for the performers entered into the spirit of the trial like a lot of schoolboys—Oscar was asked to decide what should be done with the prisoner Larry.
Oscar was at a loss to know how to answer.
"Duck him," suggested one.
This was an inspiration to Oscar. He smiled broadly.