JACK AND ME.

Shine!— All right; here y'are, boss! Do it for jest five cents. Get‘ em fixed in a minute,— That is,‘ f nothing perwents.

Set your foot right there, sir. Mornin's kinder cold,— Goes right through a feller, When his coat's a gittin’ old.

Well, yes,— call it a coat, sir, Though‘ t aint much more‘ n a tear. Git another!— I can n't, boss; Ai n't got the stamps to spare.

“Make as much as most on‘ em!” Yes; but then, yer see, They've only got one to do for,— There's two on us, Jack and me.

Him?— Why, that little feller With a curus lookin’ back, Sittin’ there on the gratin’, Warmin’ hisself,— that's Jack.

Used to go round sellin’ papers, The cars there was his lay; But he got shoved off of the platform Under the wheels one day.

Fact,— the conductor did it,— Gin him a reg'lar throw,— He did n't care if he killed him; Some on‘ em is just so.

He's never been all right since, sir, Sorter quiet and queer; Him and me goes together, He's what they call cashier.

Style, that‘ ere, for a boot-black,— Made the fellers laugh; Jack and me had to take it, But we do n't mind no chaff.

Trouble!— not much, you bet, boss! Sometimes, when biz is slack, I do n't know how I'd manage If‘ t wa'n' t for little Jack.

You jest once orter hear him: He says we need n't care How rough luck is down here, sir, If some day we git up there.

All done now,— how's that, sir? Shines like a pair of lamps. Mornin’!— Give it to Jack, sir, He looks after the stamps.