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MR. S. W. PHILBRICK OF SKOWHEGAN

WE were sitting round the tables, the other night at Young's; We had eaten Moosehead square-tails, which had loosened up our tongues; And I was telling them a story, of the days at old Moosehead, When a tall form loomed above me and a voice succinctly said:— "Don't put it on, too thickly, when you do me in cartoon For my advices are authentic: you propose to do me, soon. I am worrying about it, for I really dread the call Can't you sing a little softly; or, perhaps, not sing at all." Now, there were sitting at the table several men, I need not name; But 'twas such a delegation as is recognized in Maine, And to all of these, as jury, I deferred our friend's request And herewith transcribe the verdict, they unanimously expressed:— "Say that Philbrick's the sole pebble, on the beach at Kineo; Say that Philbrick is the party, that makes the steamers go; Say that Philbrick stands for Coburn and has numbered all the trees; Say that Philbrick drives the rivers and drives them as he please; Say that Philbrick is too modest; and; if any more be said— Say that Philbrick of Skowhegan is the whole thing, at Moosehead," But being anxious to conciliate—not offend in anything I have chloroformed the Muses and have forced them not to sing.