Is picked out at once for the story-book boy.

Oh, the story-book boy! all his troubles are o'er,
For he gets to be Judge in a year or two more;
And the wicked old landlord in poverty dies,
And the Squire's son drinks, and in gutters he lies;
But the girl whom he saved is our hero's fair bride,
And his old mother comes to their home to abide;
In silks and sealskins, she cries, in her joy:
"Thank Heaven, I'm Ma of a story-book boy!"

* * * * *

THE SCHOOL-COMMITTEE MAN

Sometimes when we're in school, and it's the afternoon and late,
And kinder warm and sleepy, don't yer know;
And p'r'aps a feller's studyin' or writin' on his slate,
Or, maybe chewin' paper-balls to throw,
And teacher's sort er lazy, too--why, then there'll come a knock
And everybody'll brace up quick's they can;
We boys and girls'll set up straight, and teacher'll smooth her frock,
Because it's him--the school-committee man.

He'll walk in kinder stately-like and say, "How do, Miss Brown?"
And teacher, she'll talk sweet as choclate cake;
And he'll put on his specs and cough and pull his eyebrows down
And look at us so hard 't would make yer shake.
We'll read and spell, so's he can hear, and speak a piece or two,
While he sets there so dreadful grand and cool;