The Green Bag
To a County Court Brief on My Table BY Fun R. Bmuza
ONG time has passed since you arrived A stranger in the land,
Your pages clean, your ink so fresh l-low eagerly I scanned! New was the tape that tied you round Near where appeared my name, Now soiled and twisted, dirty too, It scarce appears the same.
When you arrived I thought "Perhaps My luck at last has turned,"
But far too sanguine were my hopes, A lesson since I've learned. “One swallow won't a summer make," One brief a practice build, But brief must follow brief before
Your heart with hope is filled. Some baby brothers by your side At intervals have lain, They came and went, the Probate Court Received them — you remain. Some other little brothers, too, Were strangled in the cot, While others lived a week or so A miserable lot. You had two grown-up brothers once,
Two Jury cases they; But they have also passed, as passed Alas! their fees away.
How eagerly I read you through And "got up" all the Law, How through the "proofs" I searched, to find Perchanoe some fault or flaw!
