A Juvenile Joe Miller
We observed a small transaction last Wednesday noon, on Hanover street,
that wasn't so coarse for an urchin hardly out of his swaddling clouts.
He was a cunning-looking little fellow, and poking his head into a shoe
shop, he bawls out in a very keen, fine, silvery voice--
"S-a-a-y, Mister-r-r--"
"Eh?--what?" says the shop-keeper.
"Somebody's got your boots out here!"
Supposing, of course, that somebody was pegging away with a bunch of his
wares at the door, Lapstone rushes out and cries--
"Where?"
"There," says the shaver; "they're there--somebody's got 'em--hung up
'long your window there."
Lapstone seized a box lid to give the juvenile joker a flip, but he
scooted, grinning and ha! ha!-ing in the most provoking strain.