New York Dispatch

LITTLE TOMMY.
A Story for Youth and Age—Tommy's Father Discourages Him from Turning Pirate—Advises Him to Become a Politician—How to Become One—A Touching Dialogue.
(From the Philadelphia Star.)
There was once a little boy named Tommy, who read the New York Ledger till his mind became filled with all kinds of fine stories about the sea: So he told his father that he wanted to be a pirate. But his father told him it was just as good to be a politician. Then Tommy cried, and said, "No, he would be a pirate or nothing."
His kind father took him on his knee, and said, "My dear boy, you have a noble character, but why do you want to be a pirate? Is it not to sail in a ship on the sea, with a big cutlass in your belt, and to kill other people and get lots of money, and live in a cave on some lovely island? That is the way that Captain Kidd did, and many other bold sailors in the good old times now gone. But, Tommy, it is not the fashion to do those things now, and if you tried it you would soon be caught and hanged, Tommy, and how would you like that? Papa don't want his little son to be hung. So let us hear no more of piracy; your education shall hereafter be conducted with a view to politics. So run away, papa's busy now."
"No, father," said Tommy, "I want to know what is a politician?"
"A politician," said his father, "is a kind of a pirate—a land pirate—who does in a genteel and easy way what Captain Kidd and the Black Buccaneer of the Gulf did so clumsily, and at such great risk. Those pirates plundered individuals; the politician plunders the whole community, a city, a State, and sometimes a nation. He makes much money and becomes a great man.
Father is trying to be a politician himself."
Little Tommy's eyes sparkled with delight: he clapped his hands and cried, "O, daddy! I want to be a politician! Tell me about some of them. Did you ever see one?"
"Yes; and you can read of them in the papers, in which the criminal stories are much more wonderful than the New York Ledger tales. You should read the debates in Congress, in the Legislature, and in Councils, Tommy.
They will fire your youthful ambition."
"Tell me some of these stories, please," said Tommy.
"Well, once upon a time," said his father, "there was an old pirate named Ames, who had a band of other pirates who called themselves the Credit Mobilier. There was a great railroad worth lots of money, and in the treasury of the people there was lots more. So Ames and his band made a raid upon the road and the treasury, and stole millions of dollars. After awhile they were caught, and the Congress of the United States pretended to try them. But see, Tommy, how nice it is to be a politician. Had they been pirates they would have been put in prison, but as they were only politicians, Congress let them off and said they did nothing wrong."
"Tell me another story, please, father," said Tommy.
"Well, another time there was a pirate—I mean a politician, who went around at election time cheating, and he cheated, and he cheated, and he cheated, just as Captain Kidd sailed, and sailed, and sailed. Well, he was caught and put in prison. Yes, Tommy, the naughty judges sent him to the prison for three years. But, because he was a politician the President pardoned him in three weeks. Now, if he had been a pirate they would have kept him in jail."
"Just one more story, papa," said Tommy.
"I like these stories much better than the others, for they are true."
"The Evans case," said his father to himself in a musing way, "the pardon of Yerkes, water department, convicted felons in office, Caldwell, Pomeroy, Patterson, Colfax hum! hum!—highway committee, Siner, Philadelphia Roosters—there are such a lot of good stories, Tommy, that I don't know which to tell you.
We'll think over it some other time. But, if you really intend to be a politician, there is a great deal to learn, and you must study now when you are young."
"Yes, father, I will," said Tommy.
"When I was a boy," continued his father, "I did not have your advantages. My parents sent me to Sunday school, and whipped me when I stole apples or told fibs. I was afraid to develop my natural talents. They taught me that it was wrong to look a man in the face and say one thing, and even swear to it, and then go and do another. So all my boyhood was wasted in the pursuit of virtue, and when I became a man I was as green as you are now.
But you, my boy, shall have the benefit of the education which was refused to your old daddy.
Oh, Tommy, if my parents had brought me up right—that is, I mean wrong—I might have been a much more successful man. I might have been a Credit Mobilier. I might have stolen a million of dollars. I might have kept a keno shop. I might even have been in a caucus—and tried to kick somebody out—for voting right”—and the old man, overcome by his grief, burst into tears.
"Don't cry, father," sobbed Tommy, too; "when I get to be a man I'll make it all right."
"Yes, my son," said his father, calming himself, "that is my fondest hope. You may fulfill the destiny refused to me. It is my ardent prayer that I may live to see the day when you will be gloriously pardoned by some future Governor, or triumphantly acquitted by some investigating committee, now unborn, of some offense of which you will be notoriously guilty."
"But, father," said his son, "is there no school where I can learn to be a politician?"
"Yes, my child; the streets. You can learn a great deal there if you are attentive. You can learn the latest slang phrases and how to swear. By the way, do you ever swear?"
"I say doggon it and dod rot it, and such things," replied Tommy.
"You might begin on some more forcible verbs," said his father.
"I will have to give you some lessons.
Can you conjugate the verb to damn?"
"I think so," said Tommy, and he proceeded to say:
I damn,
We damn,
Thou damnest,
You damn,
He damns
They damn.
"Very good!" said his fond father, "you are a clever little boy. Here is a counterfeit quarter, which you can get the old blind cake woman to change for you. Now run away, and don't forget your grammar, and what I have told you. But stop! don't let me hear any more nonsense about wanting to be a pirate."
"No, papa!" said little Tommy, as he skipped away with a merry laugh, "I'd a great deal rather be a politician."