How blest the land that counts amo… Her sons so many good and wise, To execute great feats of tongue When troubles rise. Behold them mounting every stump,

The Widows of Ashur Are loud in their wailing: ‘No longer the ’masher’ Sees Widows of Ashur!' So each is a lasher

‘If life were not worth having,’ s… ‘T would have in suicide one pleas… ‘An error,’ said the pessimist, 'y… What’s not worth having cannot be…

Way down in the Boom Belt lived… A person named Petrie, he lived t… But Mr. Roselle he resided away Sing tooral iooral iooral iay. Once Mrs. Roselle in her room was…

I reckon that ye never knew, That dandy slugger, Tom Carew, He had a touch as light an’ free As that of any honey-bee; But where it lit there wasn’t much

When lion and lamb have together l… Spectators cry out, all in chorus; 'The lamb doesn’t shrink nor the l… A miracle’s working before us!' But 't is patent why Hot-head his…

So, Parson Stebbins, you’ve relea… To say that here, and here, we pre… 'Tis a great thing an editor to sk… And hang his faulty pelt upon a na… (If over-eared, it has, at least,…

A Countess (so they tell the tale… Who dwelt of old in Arno’s vale, Where ladies, even of high degree, Know more of love than of A.B.C, Came once with a prodigious bribe

SHE: I’m told that men have sometimes g… Too confidential, and Have said to one another what They-well, you understand.

‘Authority, authority!’ they shout Whose minds, not large enough to h… Some chance opinion ever entertain… By dogma billeted upon their brain… ‘Ha!’ they exclaim with choreatic…

Alas for ambition’s possessor! Alas for the famous and proud! The Isle of Manhattan’s best dres… Is wearing a hand-me-down shroud. The world has forgotten his glory;

Upon my desk a single spray, With starry blossoms fraught. I write in many an idle way, Thinking one serious thought. ‘O flowers, a fine Greek name ye…

Who told Creed Haymond he was wit… Had nothing better in this world t… Could no greased pig’s appeal to h… Kindle his ardor for the friendly… Did no dead dog upon a vacant lot,

‘The world is dull,’ I cried in m… ‘Its myths and fables are no longe… ’Roll back thy centuries, O Fathe… To Greece transport me in her gol… 'Give back the beautiful old Gods…

So, in the Sunday papers _you_, D… Damn, all great Englishmen in Eng… I am no Englishman, but in my rea… A rogue shall never rail where her… You are the man, if I mistake you…