ugs--but then
A man so keenly conscious of his real inward worth
Could hardly care to tackle toil so tainted of the earth.
And so, to pass the time away until his chance should come,
He boarded with his mother when he wasn't drinking rum.

No doubt, good-natured reader, you opine and apprehend
That this vain, shiftless person met a mean and sorry end.
The facts are these: He waited till the time, for us so sad,
When wagons run with gasoline became the reigning fad.
A sudden, wild demand arose for drivers, men with cheek,
And Shifty got a handsome job at fifty bones a week,
The people stare, where'er he goes; he's gained his great desire,
And every-day he sets the world, or part of it, afire.

_Newark Evening News._

WHAT THEY CALL IT.

Grandma says we're right in style,
A-sittin' in our automobile.

Grandpa says we're fit to kill,
A-ridin' in our automo-bill.

Ma, she says we ought to feel
Grateful fer our automo-beel.

Pa says there ain't no other man
Kin run an auto like he can.

Auntie preaches near and far
'Bout our lovely touring car.

Uncle Bill says he ain't seen
Nowhere such a good machine.

Brother Jim, he keeps a-braggin'
'Bout the speed of our new wagon.

But, oh, it sounds so grand and noble
When sister Sue says automoble.

_Puck._

AN "AUTO" IDYL.

The automobile owner crawled
With haste into his car
And said good-by, for he was called
To travel fast and far.

He grasped the steering wheel with glee
And gave the clutch a yank,
And then, with objurgations, he
Climbed down again to crank.

Again he mounted to the seat
Prepared like wind to fly,
Yet there he lingered in the street;
The water tank was dry.

He filled the tank; it seemed a cinch,
Once more he starts to chauff,
Behold, he does not move an inch--
The differential's off.

In rage he toils with might and main
Till he is faint and weak;
Again he starts--and stops again;
The tire's sprung a leak.

The shades of night are falling fast,
But joy illumes his brow,
He shoots ahead--his trouble past,
Pray who can catch him now?

And yet, around the corner we
May find the same machine;
Its owner is not there, for he
Has gone for gasoline.

_Council Bl