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Show fi Rippling' Rhymes By WALT MASON. i V i - CREDIT. I call upon the merchant prince, and ask to see his kiln dried fruits, and say, Send me a fig and quince," and he replies, ' You bet your boots' Just clance around the store," he cries, "and order anything you wish; we nave some dandy rhubarb pies, and boneless prunes and potted fish." 'Tis thus in all the marts of trade, I find the welcome' sign in view, because my bills are always paid quite prompt ly when said bills are due It's helpful to your self respect to feel you owe no man a dime, and when the merchants would collect, to have the rubles every ev-ery time I boast not of my angel face, nor of the blue blood in my veins; I brag not of my queenly grace, nor of my store of sizzling brains, when I'm inclined to toot my horn, I merely say, "I owe no mon," and, saying, feel that I adorn the well known sex of which I'm one. Alas, I was not always thus; I used to owe all kinds of BCaeta, and bailiffs kicked up quite a fuss pur suing me through many grades. And wt 11 I know how cheap one feels, if he owes kopeck, franc and yen, if Johnson John-son clamors for his wheels, and Jimp-son Jimp-son for his iron men I'd rather live on beeswax pills, and sleep at night in some one's shed, than sidestep merchants mer-chants bearing bills, and have men say, "Your credit's dead." |