aid he, vehemently; "the turnin'
pint of my life was similar to this depraved youth's; but, sir! a reward
from a good lookin', beneverlent old gent like you, made a man of me,
and to-day I'me President of a Society for the _Penny-Ante_ corruption
of good morrils,' and there hain't a judge in the city who wouldn't give
me a home for the pleasure of my company."

Such a man, I knew, woulden't lie about seein' me drop that pocket-book.
I took another look at the Guardian (?) of the public peace, morrils,
etc., who, when he was on his _Beat_, haden't the least objection to
anybody else bein' on _their beat_. He wasen't lookin' our way, but was
star-gazin', seein' if the sines was rite for him to go and take another
drink.

"You are sure you saw me drop this wallet?" said I, addressin' the
President of the Penny-antee Society.

"I'le take my affidavy on it," said he.

I pulled out $50 and handed it to the boy, who handed me the pocket-book.

"Mrs. GREEN! Mrs. GREEN!" soliloquised I, as I walked away, feelin' as
rich as if I held a good fat goverment offis, "if you could only see
your old man now, methinks you'd feel sorry that you hid all of his
close one mornin' last spring, so he coulden't go and attend a barn
raisin'. Yes, madam, your talented husband has struck ile."

I stepped in a stairway to count my little fortin. I was very much
agitated. The wallet was soon opened; when--

"Ye ministers fallen from grace, defend us!" was the first exclamation
which bust 4th from my lips; for I hope to be flambusticated if I hadn't
gone and paid $50 for a lot of brown paper, rapt up into patent medesin
advertisements, printed like greenbax.

For a few minnits I was crazier than a loon.

I rusht madly into the street, runnin' into an old apple woman, nockin'
her "gally west."

I quickly jumped to my feet and begun hollerin':

"Murder! Thieves! Robbers!"

The Policemen scattered, while a crowd of ragged urchins colected about
me. "My youthful vagabones," roared I, as loud as I could scream, "bring
along your stuffed wallets. The market price of brown paper is $50 an
ounce on call.--If you are lookin' for a greenhorn, I'me your man."

I then broke my umbreller over a lamp-post, and button-hold a passer by,
offerin him a $100 if he'd send me to a loonatic asilum.

Seein' a sine on the opposite corner which read: "Weigher's Office," I
rusht wildly in, and said to a man:

"Captin, I've been _litened_. If you've got such