THE NEWSBOY’S CAT; OR THE FAM’LY MAN.

WANT any paper, Mister? Wish you’d buy ’em of me— Ten years old, an’ a fam’ly, An’ bizness dull, you see, Fact, Boss! There’s Tom, an’ Tabby, An’ Dad, an’ Mam, an’ Mam’s cat, None on ’em earnin’ money— What do you think of that? Couldn’t Dad work? Why, yes, Boss, He’s working for Gov’ment now— They give him his board for nothin’— All along of a drunken row. An’ Mam? Well, she’s in the poorhouse— Been there a year or so; So I’m takin’ care of the others, Doin’ as well as I know. Oughn’t to live so? Why, Mister, What’s a feller to do? Some nights when I’m tired and hungry, Seems as if each on ’em knew— They’ll all three cuddle around me, Till I get cheery, and say; Well, p’rhaps I’ll have sisters an’ brothers, An’ money an’ clothes, too, some day. But if I do get rich, Boss, (An’ a lecturin’ chap one night Said newsboys could be Presidents If only they acted right); So, if I was President, Mister, The very first thing I’d do, I’d buy poor Tom an’ Tabby A dinner—an’ Mam’s cat, too! None o’ your scraps an’ leavin’s, But a good square meal for all three; If you think I’d skimp my friends, Boss, That shows you don’t know me. So, ’ere’s your papers—come, take one, Gimme a lift, if you can— For now you’ve heard my story, You see, I’m a fam’ly man!