"That's what I am. And the worst of it is, it ain't my first
offense. I mean it ain't the first time I've been paroled. To begin
with, when I was somewhat younger than I am now, I was twice turned
loose by judges on what they call 'suspended sentences.' Then I was
sent up for two years for stealin' something or other,--I forgot
just what it was. I served my time and a little later on went up
again for three years for holdin' up a man over in Brooklyn. Well, I
got paroled out inside of two years, and for nearly six months I had
to report to the police ever' so often. Every time I reported I had
my pockets full of loot I'd snitched durin' the month, stuff the
bulls were lookin' for in every pawn-shop in town, but to save my
soul I couldn't somehow manage to get myself caught with the goods
on me. Say, I'd give two years off of my next sentence if I could
cross my legs for five or ten minutes. This is gettin' worse and
worse all the--"

"You might try putting your left foot in the right hand drawer and
your right foot in the other one," suggested Mr. Yollop.

Mr. Smilk stared. "I've seen a lot of kidders in my time, but you
certainly got 'em all skinned to death," said he.

Mr. Yollop puffed reflectively for awhile, pondering the situation.
"Well, suppose you remove one foot at a time, Cassius. As soon it is
fairly well rested, put it back again and then take the other one
out for a spell,--and so on. Half a loaf is better than no loaf at
all."

Smilk withdrew his left foot from its drawer and sighed gratefully.