sellin' our paper, singin' out "All 'bout the axerdent," and showin' the
peeple the _Busters_ hedlines, wot red: "Terribel Calamyty! J. Gould,
the Ralerode King, Falls Outer Bed and Sustains Fatul Injuries."

The managers of the other noosepapers was orful mad, and maid all the
citie reporters hand in their resignashuns, cos they wasn't smart enuf
to each the item.

Down in Wall strete there was a reglar pannick. The Beers was jest as
happy as they culd be, and most all of 'em maid there fortunes before
dinner, cos all the stock went down like led. Jest wen a lot of the
bulls was goin' to bust up and pay ther creditturs 5 cents on the
dollar, who should walk inter the Xchange but J. Gould himself. You
never seen such a surprised crowd enyw'ere; they all thot it was his
gost till he 'xplayned that it warn't him wot fell outer bed a tail He
sed he know'd he was purty late gettin' down town, but they must 'xcuse
him, cos he was kep up purty late, calkin' up a cask of "Western Union
Water" wot sprung a leek.

The 'xcitement's beginnin' to ware off now, but you bet the _Buster's_
got a big lot of free advertising and Mr. Giliey warn't a bit mad, wen
I 'xplained how it all happened, cos the Wall strete beers is goin' to
s'port him for Guv'ner, cos the _Buster's_ made 'em all wrich.

Jimmie's allrite agin; he was only stunned, and he got out of bed in
time to get down to the telegraf offis. I feel orful proud of my chum
now. I never know'd how much he was valewd before. You see now, Mr.
Diry, wot a boy makes of hisself when he 'sociates with a risin' yung
jurnerlist, like yours trooly, Georgie.

CHAPTER XI.

IN THE ROLE OF DRAMATICK CRITTICK.--"HOSIERY HENRYETTUR, OR
A BOOM IN FANCY GOODS."--THE HAPPY DENEWMENT.

I didn't write nothin in you last nite, Mr. Diry, cos me and
Maria--that's my gal--was takin in the furst nite at the theatur.

Jest wen I was lee vin the offis the edittur called me aside and arst
me if I thot I was capabel to report the furst performance of "Hosiery
Henryettur, or A Boom in Fancy Goods," cos the dramattick edit-tur had
gone and got mashed on the latest perfesshunal buty from Cleveland, and
warn't fit for duty.

I sez: "You becher sweet neck, I can."

So he give me a cupple of "comps" and a led nickle for to buy candie and
peenuts with. Wen I got home I drest up in my Sunday-skule cloes, and
went round and wated wile my gal was puttin on her bandyline and rubbin
her face