Just think of it.

Two men of clear brain and, to all intents and purposes, of sound bodily health, unable to reach an object a few feet away.

Boyce uttered an impatient exclamation.
"Get hold of that box for me, like a good chap," he said, his fingers groping wide of the mark.
"I can't move," said I.
"Good Lord! I forgot." He began to laugh.

I laughed, too.

We laughed like fools and the tears ran down my cheeks.