cuss."

Then Sutter he rose grimly, and sorter smilin' dimly bowed onto the
Chairman primly--(just like Cutter ez could be!)
Drawled "he guessed he must fall--back--as--Mr. Cutter owned the
pack--as--he just had played the--Jack--as--" (here Cutter's gun
went crack! as Mr. Sutter gasped and ended) "every man can see!"

But William Henry Pryor--just in range of Sutter's fire--here
evinced a wild desire to do somebody harm,
And in the general scrimmage no one thought if Sutter's "image" was
a misplaced punctooation--like the hole in Pryor's arm.

For we all waltzed in together, never carin' to ask whether it was
Sutter or was Cutter we woz tryin' to abate.
But we couldn't help perceivin', when we took to inkstand heavin',
that the process was relievin' to the sharpness of debate,

So we've come home free and merry from the peaceful cemetery, and I
make no commentary on these simple childish games;
Things is various and human--and the man ain't born of woman who is
free to intermeddle with his pal's intents and aims.

THE THOUGHT-READER OF ANGELS

REPORTED BY TRUTHFUL JAMES

We hev tumbled ez dust
Or ez worms of the yearth;
Wot we looked for hez bust!
We are objects of mirth!
They have played us--old Pards of the river!--they hev played us for
all we was worth!

Was it euchre or draw
Cut us off in our bloom?
Was it faro, whose law
Is uncertain ez doom?
Or an innocent "Jack pot" that--opened--was to us ez the jaws of the
tomb?

It was nary! It kem
With some sharps from the States.
Ez folks sez, "All things kem
To the fellers ez waits;"
And we'd waited six months for that suthin'--had me and Bill Nye--in
such straits!

And it kem. It was small;
It was dream-like and weak;
It wore store clothes--that's all
That we knew, so to speak;
But it called itself "Billson, Thought-Reader"--which ain't half a
name for its cheek!

He could read wot you thought,
And he knew wot you did;
He could find things untaught,
No matter whar hid;
And he went to it, blindfold and smiling, being led by the hand like
a kid!

Then I glanced at Bill Nye,
And I sez, without pride,
"You'll excuse US. We've