And pay, yet have something to spare;
He may pass the “Insolvent Debtors’ Court,”
And merge at the most nearly bare.
But if once in a Chancery suit he’s caught,
Though the world be all his own,
In those hungry clutches, ’twill be as nought,
And they’ll fight for his skin and bone.
For a gem in its way, spite of evil report,
Is the sacred shade of a Chancery Court.
From Grins and Groans, Social and Political,
(London, W. Swan Sonnenschein & Co.)