Judge Armstrong, when the poor ha… To be released from vows that they… In haste, and leisurely repented,… As stern as Rhadamanthus (Minos t… And AEeacus) have drawn your fier…

By hardihood to rise and fear to s… And fitly to rebuke his sins decre… That, hide from others with what c… Night sha’n’t be black enough nor… That from himself himself can ever…

The pig is taught by sermons and e… To think the God of Swine has sno… Judibras.

Says Anderson, Theosophist: 'Among the many that exist In modern halls, Some lived in ancient Egypt’s cli… And in their childhood saw the pri…

Attorney Knight, it happens so so… That lawyers, justifying cut-throa… For hire-calumniating, too, for go… The dead, dumb victims cruelly uns… Speak, through the press, to a tri…

The Devil one day, coming up from… All grimy with perspiration, Applied to St. Peter and begged h… Him a moment for consultation. The Saint showed him in where the…

Why ask me, Gastrogogue, to dine (Unless to praise your rascal wine… Yet never ask some luckless sinner Who needs, as I do not, a dinner?

It is pleasant to think, as I’m w… A-drying along my paper, That a monument fine will surely b… When death has extinguished my tap… From each rhyming scribe of the jo…

Goddess of Liberty! O thou Whose tearless eyes behold the cha… And look unmoved upon the slain, Eternal peace upon thy brow,- Before thy shrine the races press,

‘Tis Master Fitch, the editor; He takes an holiday. Now wherefore, venerable sir, So resolutely gay? He lifts his head, he laughs aloud…

He lay on his bed and solemnly ‘si… Gasping-perhaps ‘twas a jest he me… ’This of a sound and disposing min… Is the last ill-will and contestam…

Tut! Moody, do not try to show To gentlemen and ladies That if they have not ‘Faith,’ th… Headlong to Hades. Faith is belief; and how can I

Hangman’s hands laid in this tomb… Imp of Satan’s getting, whom an Ancient legend says that woman Never bore-he owed his birth To Sin herself. From Hell to Ear…

O bear me, gods, to some enchanted… Where woman’s tears can antidote h…

Pope-choker Pixley sat in his den A-chewin’ upon his quid. He thought it was Leo Thirteen, a… He bit it intenser, he did. The amber which overflew from the…