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.