THE DEVIL'S OCCUPASHUN GONE.--POLLYTISHUN OR JURNERLIST.--
PLANS FOR THE FUTURE.--ADDYOU.
I aint no devil no more, cos this mornin Mr. Gilley informed me that I
was gettin too big for my persishun, and he'd hired a nuther boy to
act as the _Busters_ Devil. He sez I can fuie round and act in the
cuppaserty of missellaneus reporter, and rite up eny thing I think wurth
wile, till it was time for us to go to Albanie and get inaugerated. Then
he'd warnt me to act as his Privat Seckertery, cos he knowed I had his
interest at hart, and was discrete enuf not to give him away.
I don't kno yet wether I'd better axcept his offer to become a
pollytishun, cos I've got my mind set on the jurnerlistick perfesshun,
and its bout the eesiest way to mak a fortune and a name wot I culd get.
I'll think over the matter, Mr. Diry, and if I can't get a situashun
as a Washinton gossipper or a job on the _Herald_, to rite up the
abberiginies of Cannadey, I may go on to Albanie, and rite up all the
triks of the pollytishuns, jest to keep myself in pracktiss til we go
outer offis.
I must close, Mr. Diry, cos I'm goin down to the hotel to intervue
Curnel Bob, Ingysoll, and see if a feller like me wuldn't stand sum
sho to make munny and a big name, if he was to start out as a “genuine
devil” brok loose from Haydies.
And you, mister, remember if I ain't no longer a
typergraffickal devil, I still am,
Yours trooly,
Georgie.