JUDGE. [Scanning ledger.] Very well. Let us see. Here is paralysis.
POOR MAN. [Hesitatingly.] Well. I—I couldn't have a—very good time, if—if I was paralyzed.
JUDGE. [Shortly.] No. I suppose not. How about a glass eye?
POOR MAN. [Anxiously.] Please, your honor, if I'm going to have a good time I need two good eyes. I don't want to miss anything.
JUDGE. [Wearily turning over the leaves of the ledger.] A man left his wife here for exchange, perhaps you would like her.
POOR MAN. [Shifting from one foot to the other and nervously twirling his hat.] Oh, Judge, oh, no, please, no. I don't want anybody's old cast-off wife.
JUDGE. [Becoming exasperated.] Well, choose something, and be quick about it. Here is lumbago, gout, fatness, old age, and——
IMP. [Interrupting, and walking quickly over to the railing.] Excuse me, Judge, but maybe the gentleman would like the indigestion that Mr. Potter left when he took old Mrs. Pratt's fallen arches.
POOR MAN. [Eagerly.] Indigestion? Sure! That will be fine! I won't mind a little thing like indigestion if I can get rid of my poverty.
JUDGE. [Sternly.] Very well. Raise your right hand. Repeat after me: "I swear to accept indigestion for better or for worse as my portion of the world's miseries, so help me God."