Writer folk across the bay Take the pains to see and say All their upward palms in air: 'Joaquin Miller’s cut his hair!' Hasten, hasten, writer folk

Weep, weep, each loyal partisan, For Buckley, king of hearts; A most accomplished man; a man Of parts-of foreign parts. Long years he ruled with gentle sw…

Charles Main, of Main & Winc… With friendly ear the chit-chat of… Who knows you not, yet knows that… Travel two roads that have a commo… We journey forward through the tim…

Wild wanton Luxury lays waste the… With difficulty tilled by Thrift’… Then dies the State!-and, in its… The millionaires, all maggot-like,… Alas! was it for this that Warren…

Great Joseph D. Redding-illustri… Considered a fish-horn the trumpet… That goddess was angry, and what d… Her trumpet she filled with a gall… And all through the Press, with a…

What! you were born, you animated… Within the shadow of the Capitol? 'Twas always thought (and Bancrof… His trusting readers) it was reare…

Like a worn mother he attempts in… To still the unruly Crier of his… The more he rocks the cradle of hi… The more uproarious grows the brat…

O statesmen, what would you be at, With torches, flags and bands? You make me first throw up my hat, And then my hands.

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…

Mackay’s hot wrath to Bonynge, di… Of blows unnumbered, heavenly godd… That wrath which hurled to Hellma… Two heroes, mutually smeared with… Whose hair in handfuls marked the…

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…

Lo! the wild rabbit, happy in the… Of qualities to meaner beasts deni… Surveys the ass with reverence and… Adoring his superior length of ear… And says: ‘No living creature, le…

San Quentin was brilliant. Within… Of the noble pile with the frownin… (God knows they’ve enough to make… With a Governor trying to break t… Was a blaze of light. ‘Twas the n…

It was a bruised and battered chap The victim of some dire mishap, Who sat upon a rock and spent His breath in this ungay lament: 'Some wars-I’ve frequent heard of…

For Gladstone’s portrait five tho… Were paid, 't is said, to Sir Joh… I cannot help thinking that such f… Transcended reason’s uttermost bou… For it seems to me uncommonly quee…