Just His Luck

l'm hungry, and ragged, and balf-siok and doud-broke," iimttereda tramp yosterday, as he sat down fór a sun-bath on the wharf at the foot of'Griswold street ; "but it'.s just my luck." Last fall I got into Detroit just two hours too late to sell my vote. Nobody to blame. Found a big wallet on the street in December, and four pólice carne up bef'ore I could hide it. Luck again. Got knocked down by a street-car, but thore was no opening for a suit and damages, beuause I was drunk. Just the way. Last fall nails were way down. I knew thcre'd be a riso; but I didn't buy, and liuld for the advance. Lost ten tliou sand dollars out and out. Allus that way with me. (lass went up twenty-five per riiii., but I hada't a pane on hand, excepting the pain in my back. Never knew it to fail. Now lumber's gone up, and I don't even own a fenco-picket to realize on. Just me again. Feil into the rivor t'olher day, but instead of pulling me out and giving me a hot whisky, tliey pulled me out, and told me to leave town, or I'd get bounced. That's me again. Now Ivo got settled down here for a bit of rest and a snooze, but I'll be routad out in IM than fifteen minute.", and I know it. It'll be just my behanged luek !" He settled down, slid bis hat over bis face, and was just beginning to feel sleepy, when a hundrod pounds of coal rattled down on him. "Iknew it- I knew it!" shoutcd the tramp, as he sprang up and rubbed the dust off his head - " 1 said so all the time, and 1 just wish the durned old hogshcad had eomo down alonir with the coal. and