THE BOSS.

Who is it, when the people rise

And make the welkin ring with cries

For freedom, sits with upturned eyes?

The Boss.

Who is it makes a little slate

And nominates the candidate--

But lets the people pay the freight?

The Boss.

Who is it, after all the noise

Against the methods he employs

Is meekly followed by the boys?

The Boss.

Who, when he gets alone where we

That boast about the liberty

We have can neither hear nor see

Says: "Oh, what fools these mortals be!"

The Boss.

_Chicago Times-Herald._