"I'm Supervisor of the town where I have lived so long: There ain't a man in all that part will say I've done him wrong; There ain't a man will claim but what I'm ordinary keen; But when I plant myself in town, I grow exceedin' green. An' any kind-expressioned man, who acts a civil part, Can always find my soul to home, an' house-room in my heart. "It's sad for such a smile as yours to find so mean a fate; An' there's _some_ good in you--at least enough to use for bait; Without _some_ kindness in your heart, you couldn't have landed me; An' as to how you've used your gifts, just pause a bit an' see. I've gambled, by you're callin' it a charitable name, And my self-valuation sunk with unaccustomed shame. "I've done what I'd have whipped my boys for even lookin' at; An' don't suppose but what I own part of the blame for that; I thought I saw a chance to make five dollars out o' one, Which, with strict justice all around, is very seldom done. But up to that outrageous point, remember, I was led By your assumed relationship, an' several things you said. "Do you reflect, young man, upon the fruit you're growin' to? There's prison gates a-waitin' now to stand in front of you. There's grief of unexpected kinds, an' every sort of shame, To send you some time from this world much poorer than you came. Your guilty head you hang before us sinners standin' by: What angle do you s'pose 'twould take 'mongst angels in the sky? [Illustration: "THEY 'PUT THEIR HEADS TOGETHER' IN A NEW AN' PAINFUL WAY."] "There's hope e'en on the death-bed for a square, straightforward thief, But _Judases_ have always come to most peculiar grief; The Lord has pity, I suppose, for errin' men an' weak, But no good satisfact'ry place in which to put a sneak. An' when a man wins men's esteem, then thrives by their mistakes, He makes himself a bigger fool than all the fools he makes." [Illustration: "HE MAKES HIMSELF A BIGGER FOOL THAN ALL THE FOOLS HE MAKES."] Then my adopted relative I seated in a chair, With amply necessary help, an' sev'ral pounds to spare. Then Seth an' I with dignity bade both the scamps good-day, Advisin' them to gain their bread in some dissimilar way; An' as we thundered down the stairs, with heavy rural tread, I felt that I'd at last come out some several rods ahead. A. S. [_From Arthur Selwyn's Note-book._] [THE "SLUGGING"-MATCH.] "A first-class professional fight!" I'm really doing the town! There were thousands on thousands to-night To see a man knock a man down. Two dollars I willingly (?) paid To view all this muscle and brawn; 'Twas rather too much, I'm afraid, Or seemed so, the minute 'twas gone. * * * * *