Part 4 (1/2)

Billy Bird was know'd as a bar-room b.u.m; Be'n a trader out on th' plains; Be'n a timber rafter, a fourth-ward grafter, Hadn't no conshunce, hadn't no brains; But was well perserv'd in Rum.

He hailed frum Mi-sou-ri 'r Michi-gan; Was cook in a lumber camp; Run a Wild West show, then turn'd hobo, Was an all-roun' fu'st cla.s.s tramp;-- 'N y' couldn't call him a ”man.”

He'd b'en kicked an' cussed like a mongrel pup, An' a c.o.c.k-fight was his creed; An' eye out o' joint was another bad point, But with th' one left he see'd Far enough t' hit th' cup!

He'd th' wanderin' itch in his lazy heels (With th' luck that comes t' sich); F'r one day, dead drunk, that mis'ble skunk Struck a vein that made him rich.

Y' sh'd hear Billy Bird's squeals:--

”I'm richer'n Creesus!” (this he howled); ”I've th' biggest strike aroun'; I'm a reg'lar gent!” (Here his bre'th was spent An' he tumbles upon th' groun'); B' his luck Billy Bird got fouled.

Clumb up on a kag t' make a speech.

Says he: ”I'm th' Turrible Turk!

I'm a millionaire, an' I'll curl th' hair Of th' man says I need work!

Me? I'm a rainbow out of reach!

”I'm off t' Noo York t' get int' th' swirl; Tip them waiters ten-dollar bills; I'm a millionaire! Don't I wear th' air That goes with th' pace that kills?

An' I'm goin' t' pick my Girl!

”I'll buy her di'mon's t' blaze her front, An' th' best champagne we'll spill; An' I'll murder th' man as says what he can See I ain't no gent! Me, Bill!

An' I tell y' that's MY stunt!

”I'll buy a floor in th' big ho-tel; I'll dazzle th' chamber-maids; Fifth Avenoo style in my auto-mo-bile I'll speed her up with my jades; I'll show 'em a Yukon swell!

”I'll dine on snakes fried in burnin' oil, An' dance till th' cows come home; As an aftermath take a champagne bath An' shampoo with a curry-comb; All done up accordin' t' Hoyle.

”Then I'll hike t' bed with a great, big, head,-- Yellin': 'CALL WHEN THE CLOCK HITS FOUR!'

An' I'll wait with a grin till th' 'call' comes in, An' Bra.s.s b.u.t.tons knocks at th' door, An' he thinks I'm sleepin' dead!

”Bra.s.s b.u.t.tons 'tap, tap, tap' on th' door:-- 'Millionaire, it is four A. M.!'

An' I'll bust that door with a Yukon roar: Howlin: 'Say! d'ye know WHO I AM?'

An' I'll rouse 'em on every floor!

”W'en th' house comes runnin' up I'll yell:-- 'WOW! I'm a millionaire!

I DON'T HEV' T' GET UP, y' blankety Pup!'

An' the'r eyes stickin' out 'll stare, While I send 'em plumb t' h----ll!”

P. S.--BILLY BIRD, MILLIONAIRE, REACHED WINNIPEG, WHERE PEROXIDE BLONDES PULLED BILLY BIRD'S LEG.

YOU'LL FIND HIM TO-DAY IN A YUKON S'LOON SLUs.h.i.+N' BEER TO TH' SAME OLD PLAYED-OUT TUNE:-- ”O! THEM GURLS THEY PULLED MY LAIG!”

INVITATION