So, Beecher’s dead. His was a gre… Great as a giant organ is, whose r… Hold in them all the souls of all… That man has ever taught and never… When on this mighty instrument He…

Now o’ nights the ocean breeze Makes the patient flinch, For that zephyr bears a sneeze In every cubic inch. Lo! the lively population

As some enormous violet that tower… Colossal o’er the heads of lowlier… Its giant petals royally displayed… And casting half the landscape int… Delivering its odors, like the blo…

God said, ‘Let there be Crime,’ a… Brought Satan, leading Stoneman b… 'Why, that’s Stupidity, not Crime… ‘Bring what I ordered.’ Satan wit… Replied, 'This is _one_ element-w…

Another Irish landlord gone to gr… Slain by the bullets of the tenant… Pray, good agrarians, what wrong r… Such foul redress? Between you an… All Ireland’s parted with an even…

God’s people sorely were oppressed… I heard their lamentations long; I hear their singing, clear and st… I see their banners in the West! The captains shout the battle-cry,

Strolling at sunset in my native l… With fruits and flowers thick on e… I crossed a Shadow flung athwart… Emerging on a waste of rock and sa… ‘The apples all are gone from here…

A reporter he was, and he wrote, w… “The grave was covered as thick as… With floral tributes”—which readin… The editor man he said, he did so: “For 'floral tributes’ he’s got fo…

FITCH: 'All vices you’ve exhausted, frien… So all the papers say.' PICKERING: ‘Ah, what vile calumnies are penne…

Upon this quarter-eagle’s leveled… The Lord’s Prayer, legibly inscri… 'Our Father which’-the pronoun th… And shows the scribe to have addre… 'Which art in Heaven’-an error th…

De Young (in Chicago the story is… ‘Took his life in his hand,’ like… And stood before Buckley-who thou… For Buckley, the man-eating monst… ‘Count fairly the ballots!’ so ran…

The Chinatown at Bakersfield Was blazing bright and high; The flames to water would not yiel… Though torrents drenched the sky And drowned the ground for miles a…

Christmas, you tell me, comes but… One place it never comes, and that… Here, in these pages no good wishe… No well-worn greetings tediously r… For Christmas greetings are like…

I died. As meekly in the earth I… With shriveled fingers reverently… The worm-uncivil engineer!-my clay Tunneled industriously, and the mo… My body could not dodge them, but…

Dull were the days and sober, The mountains were brown and bare, For the season was sad October And a dirge was in the air. The mated starlings flew over