Want any papers, Mister?
Wish you'd buy 'em of me--
Ten year old, an' a fam'ly,
An' bizness dull, you see.
Fact, Boss! There's Tom, an' Tibby,
An' Dad, an' Mam, an' Mam's cat,
None on 'em earning money--
What do you think of that?
_Couldn't Dad work?_ Why yes, Boss,
He's workin' for Gov'ment now--
They give him his board for nothin',
All along of a drunken row,
_An' Mam?_ well, she's in the poor-house,
Been there a year or so,
So I'm taking care of the others,
Doing as well as I know.
_Tibby my sister?_ Not much, Boss,
She's a kitten, a real Maltee;
I picked her up last summer--
Some boys was a drownin' of she;
Throw'd her inter a hogshead;
But a p'liceman came along,
So I jest grabbed up the kitten
And put for home, right strong.
And Tom's my dog; he an' Tibby
Hain't never quarreled yet--
They sleep in my bed in winter
An' keeps me warm--you bet!
Mam's cat sleeps in the corner,
With a piller made of her paw--
Can't she growl like a tiger
If anyone comes to our straw!
_Oughtn't to live so?_ Why, Mister,
What's a feller to do?
Some nights, when I'm tired an' hungry,
Seems as if each on 'em knew--
They'll all three cuddle around me,
Till I get cheery, and say:
Well, p'raps I'll have sisters an' brothers,
An' money an' clothes, too, some day.
But if I do git 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' Tibby
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!
_E.T. Corbett._