well tired out, a lot of fellers wot was
"hit," cum out, and the other formed rings round them and sung a song
wot sounded like it was maid up of five 8s and three 1/4 s. I shuld
think theyd be ashamed of theirselves, grate big men, spendin there time
playin a game wot Boys, as big as me, wuldn't do for a nickel. I seen
they was disgracin us, New Yorkers, so I thot it was time to put a stop
to it, and bring em down to bisness, so I sung out orful loud:

"Gintelmin: Thurs a big fire in the Uniyun Depot in Sheecargo." Then
they all looked up to see who was talkin, and reckernized me, as
connected with the _Buster_. You'd dide, to see em flyin round; the
fellers wot do the bullin was purty neer crazey, coverin up there
stocks, with margin's. Stocks come flyin down, like litenin, and the
barish porshun of the compenney, was makin a immense pile of munney.
The country lams wot the Bulls and bares had been fleecin, so as there
wives, & gals culd have wool enuf, to stuff the footstools with, wot
they was makin for Chrissmas boxes, hurd wot I sed, and tumbeled to it,
and sold all the Western trunk stocks. I didn't say nothing till I
seen thay'd got a good deal onter the bulls, then I sung out agen,
"Gentelmen, The big fire wot, I sed, was in the Uniyun Depot, at
Sheecargo, is still burnin fiercely, in the heeter, wots lokated in the
seller."

I didn't wate to say good by, cos the fire-like gleem wot gleemed at
me from bout a hundred pares of eyes, boded no good for the _Busters_
devil.

Wen I got back to the offis a note was watin for me, wot red:

Dare Devil--You've mistakin your callin. A sensashunalist
like yurself orter stick to the spesshialty bisness. If
you'll quit the noosepa-per perfesshun, I'll form a
syndycate, and run you as a stock hammerer, and gin you half
the proffits.

Yours very trooly,

Gould.

I assure you, Mr. Diry, the temptashun was purty strong, but I thot of
my integrity and princerples, and rote:

Sur--I prefer my present persisshun of hammerin branes inter
the publick to that of hammerin stocks. Not all the
syndycates of 'Merica wuld temp me to relinquish my
onherabel con-necshuns with the _Dailey Buster_.

Yours trooly,

Devil.

CHAPTER XXIX.

HE CALLS ON MARIA AND PRONOUNSES HER FRAGRANT.--AT A CHURCH
SUPPER.--BENERVOLENSE REWARDED.----A EPPYDEMMICK.

Last nite I went over to call on Maria. I thot I'd