'O, I’m the Unaverage Man, But you never have heard of me, For my brother, the Average Man,… My fame with rapiditee, And I’m sunk in Oblivion’s sea,

'Twas an Injin chieftain, in feat… Who stood on the ocean’s rim; There were numberless leagues of e… But there wasn’t enough for him. So he knuckled a thumb in his pain…

Baffled he stands upon the track The automatic switches clack. Where’er he turns his solemn eyes The interlocking signals rise. The trains, before his visage pale…

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…

Behold! the days of miracle at las… Return-if ever they were truly pas… From sinful creditors’ unholy gree… The church called Calvary at last… So called for there the Savior’s…

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

What wrecked the Roman power? One… Another indolence, another dice. Emascle says polygamy. ‘Not so,’ Says Impycu-'twas luxury and show… The parson, lifting up a brow of b…

Boruck and Waterman upon their gr… In Hades lay, with many a sigh an… Hotly disputing, for each swore hi… Were clearly keener than the other… And, truly, each had much to boast…

'O venerable patriot, I pray Stand not here coatless; at the br… We’ll know the grand result-and ev… The eastern sky is faintly touched… 'It ill befits thine age’s hoary c…

Goldenson hanged! Well, Heaven fo… That I should smile above him: Though truth to tell, I never did Exactly love him. It can’t be wrong, though, to rejo…

The skies they were ashen and sobe… The leaves they were crisped and s… ‘ ’ ‘ withering ’… It was night in the lonesome Octo… Of my most immemorial year;

Once-in the county of Marin, Where milk is sold to purchase gin Renowned for butter and renowned For fourteen ounces to the pound A bull stood watching every turn

Oh, Marcus D. Boruck, me hearty, I sympathize wid ye, poor lad! A man that’s shot out of his party Is mighty onlucky, bedad! An’ the sowl o’ that man is sad.

When Man and Woman had been made, All but the disposition, The Devil to the workshop strayed… And somehow gained admission. The Master rested from his work,

‘Sas agapo sas agapo,’ He sang beneath her lattice. 'Sas agapo’?' she murmured-'O, I wonder, now, what _that_ is!' Was she less fair that she did bea…