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--


"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.