Scene.—Lawyer’s office. Lawyer Porter sitting at desk writing. Knock at door.

(Enter Farmer Hanks in rustic attire, looking hesitatingly around.)

Farmer Hanks.

Be you the divorce man?

Lawyer Porter. (Smiling.) Well, I don’t exactly know that my vocation lies particularly in that direction, but I have been known to undertake such cases. Are you in trouble?

Far. H. I should rather say so! It’s come to jest this ’ere climax that I can’t stand it nohow, not another day; an’ ef you can’t git me unspliced, I’ll hev to find some one who can.

Law. P. What are your grounds for complaint?