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The Green Bag He came to the Portal, the Gate he found barred. He rang up the Porter and sent in his card To St. Peter; he waited with patience outside, He waited his turn to pass in and be tried. A messenger came with the Bailiff's report And ordered the lawyer to come into Court. Then entered our hero of pleadings and writs, To the High Court of Justice, where St. Peter sits. The Judge gave the lawyer a quick, searching look: He glanced at the card, and he opened the Book; He turned to a page that was blotted and marred, And the name was the same as the name on the card. St. Peter grew thoughtful, in sorrowful notes He said, "I'm afraid you must pass with the Goats. But stay, every soul, be he saint, be he thief, Is allowed to be heard; now, sir, make yourself brief." The lawyer bowed law, as a lawyer knows how. "I'm grateful, your Honor, that you do allow A poor, insignificant lawyer like me To enter this Court, and to offer a plea. 'Tis often, indeed, in the courts of the World, I have struggled and fought, and my rhetoric hurled 'Gainst corruption and vice. I have stood for the Laws, Have pleaded for Right, have been true to the Cause. "My clients were legion, but many, I fear, By the hand of the Law, have been laid on the bier. I've suffered defeat in my struggles, but then The justice of Earth is the justice of men. 'Tis only in this Court true Justice is found; Here only Forgiveness and Mercy abound. Your Honor, I trust, by such tenderness blest, Will parole the poor weakling, who did but his best." The lawyer spoke long and the lawyer spoke well, Both Judge and the Jury came under his spell. St. Peter sat silent, his head on his hand, The close crowded courtroom he vacantly scanned : Then, rousing himself, to the lawyer he turned : "My eloquent friend, I perceive you have learned To persuade men to think that the sable is white. You garnish the wrong, 'til they think it is right. "Your record on Earth was a poor one, indeed; All failure and loss, yet I feel there is need
