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The foxy Bickel still was sure He had a quirk that would endure, And thought the judge of common pleas Would right evade and cold law seize. So he appealed. But in that court His satisfaction was cut short, For judgment went against him there. He told his lawyer to prepare An argument to educate The highest forum in the State. The solemn supreme judges smiled When they perused the record filed. They went clear back to Mansfield's time For sales that contemplated crime; They cited Eyre and Ellenborough; Of ancient books their search was thorough; They overlooked no modern case For principles on which to base A judgment that would bring Sheets cash And settle Bickel's subtle hash. In closing, with fine scorn they said Appellant's shrewd defence was plead With ill grace, coming from the man Whose purpose was to break the ban Laid by the law on gambling games; Who got the goods, and now proclaims. On moral grounds, that he is free To keep the gear and pay no fee. It may be so; but if it be, Rewarding his dishonesty Will not at all tend to help out The morals he himself doth flout. Dogberry's wisdom was confirmed, And Bickel, while he doubtless squirmed, Learned that he could not by a flaw Entangle justice in the law.