He wiped his eye on a three-sheet bill, 'Twas lettered in blue and red, He cursed the fates and the open dates, And I spoke to him, and said: "'Tis little I know of the mimic show, But if you will explain to me-- I'll eat my vest if I can digest How you can possibly be, At once a star, and a manager bold, And a leading and juvenile man, And a comedy pet, and a pert soubrette, And a boss of a box-sheet plan." He ran his hand through his dusty hair, And pulled down a brunette cuff, And on the rocks, with his property-box, He told me his story tough: "It was in the year of eighty-three, When a party of six and me Went on the road with a show that's knowed As a 'musical com-i-dee.' I writ it myself--it knocked 'em cold-- It made 'em shriek and roar; But we struck a reef and came to grief, On the west of the Michigan shore. Each night it rained, or snowed or blowed, And when the weather was clear They'd say: 'It's sad your house is bad. But wait till you come next year.' We travelled along from town to town A-tryin' to change our luck-- With nothin' to taste but bill-board paste An' the 'property' canvas duck. At last we got to Kankakee, All travel-stained and sore, When the star got mad and shook us bad For a job in a dry-goods store-- And then the leading heavy man Informed me with a frown He was going away the very next day With a circus then in town; And the comedy pet and the pert soubrette Engaged as cook and waiter-- They are still doing well in a small hotel Near the Kankakee the-ay-ter. Then only the 'comic' and me remained, For to leave he hadn't the heart; Each laugh was a drop of blood to him, And he loved that comedy part. We played one night to a right good house, Eight dollars and a half; But to my ill-luck in my lines I stuck And I queered the comedian's laugh. He fell down dead of a broken heart-- The coroner, old and sage, Said his brain was cracked with a bad attackt Of the centre of the stage. I played that part all by myself For a week in Kankakee; O'er rails and rocks with this property-box I've walked to where I be. I never say an actor's good, I always damn a play; I always croak, and a single joke I have, which is to say: That I am the star, and the manager bold, And the leading and juvenile man And the comedy pet, and the pert soubrette, And the boss of the box-sheet plan." [Laughter and applause.] MURAT HALSTEAD OUR NEW COUNTRY [Speech of Murat Halstead at the 126th annual banquet of the Chamber of Commerce of the State of New York, November 20, 1894. Alexander B. Orr, President of the Chamber, in proposing this toast, said: "I now have the honor of introducing to you that eminent journalist, the Hon. Murat Halstead, who will respond to the toast, 'Our New Country.'"]