The fight with the “chocolate drop” was at the Chickatawbut club; Although I was white I was in the dark for they took me for a dub. We entered the ring and a whoop went up, we both shared the applause, They liked us both and “The Kid” was a price and we knew each other’s flaws. For we went to school together, “The Sunflower Kid” and me, And we knew each other’s tactics like the saying A to Z. The bell rang; we came to the front and neither of us smiled, We were feinting and “feeling each other out,” and one of my swings went wild; No damage was done in the opening round, except for a few left hooks, I was sure I had his number then and proceeded to mar his looks. The eighth opened up, I was still very fresh, getting stronger all the while, I ducked “The Kid’s” right swing to the jaw and met him with a smile, Yes, a smile and also a right hand smash to the softest part of the jaw, And “The Kid” went down from the force of the blow and laid out on the straw. The referee counted ten and then the “Kid” didn’t move a bit, I knelt beside him, got hold of his head, I knew he was hard hit. A doctor jumped in and felt his pulse, put water on his head, A minute later he tested his heart and announced the “Kid” was dead. From that time on, I’m sorry to say, my life began to fail In health and strength and happiness for I served ten years in jail. And now I am fighting Barleycorn and my hair is turning gray, And I’ll beget this tough old gamester until my judgment day. * * * * * Not Me When a pretty Fairy gets on a car, And her dress comes kinder high, The goodly man will steal a glance, Even as you and I. But when he’s with a real nice girl, To look, he will not try, He is a regular “model man” Even as you and I. * * * * * Evolution _Jazzed a trifle—Apologies to Langdon Smith_ By Neil McConlogue. When you were part of an elephant’s tusk In the Palezoic time, And I rode round in a walrus mouth ’Mid the piscatorial slime, Or skittered with many a caudal flip Thru the depths of a salmon fen— Our hearts were rife with that dentine life, But—I wasn’t with you then. That was before the colored man Invented the game called Crap; Before they cubed and spotted our sides, And tossed us toward Fortune’s Lap. But the world turned on in the lathe of time; The hot sands heaved amain; And our faces were polished with emery wheel— Then between us they made a game.