I dreamed that I was dead. The ye… The world forgot that such a man a… Had ever lived and written: other… Were hailed with homage, in their… Out of my grave a giant beech upgr…

Death, are you well? I trust you… That’s painful or in any way annoy… No kidney trouble that may carry y… Or heart disease to keep you from… Your meals-and ours. 'T were very…

Your influence, my friend, has gat… To east and west its tides encroac… There’ll be, on all God’s foot-st… No clean spot left for God to set…

‘Resolved that we will post,’ the… ‘All names of debtors who do never… ‘Whose shall be first?’ inquires t… ‘Who are the chiefs of the maraudi… Lo! high Parnassus, lifting from…

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,

The trumpet sounded and the dead Came forth from earth and ocean, And Pickering arose and sped Aloft with wobbling motion. ‘What makes him fly lop-sided?’ cr…

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 cur foretells the knell of par… The loafing herd winds slowly o’er… The wise man homewards plods; I o… To fiddle-faddle in a minor key.

I turned my eyes upon the Future’… And saw its pictured prophecies un… I saw that magical life-laden trai… Flash its long glories o’er Nebra… I saw it smoothly up the mountain…

As oft it happens in the youth of… That mists obscure the sun’s imper… Who, as he’s mounting to the dome’… Smites and dispels them with a ste… So you the vapors that begirt your…

RAILROGUES, DUMP-CARTERS. NAVVIES and Unassorted SHOVELRY in the Lower Distance (_Seizes Dead Cat by the tail and swings it in act to throw._) (_Endeavoring to get his handkerchief, he ...

O hoary sculptor, stay thy hand: I fain would view the lettered sto… What carvest thou?-perchance some… And solemn fancy all thine own. For oft to know the fitting word

Little’s the good to sit and griev… Because the serpent tempted Eve. Better to wipe your eyes and take A club and go out and kill a snake… What do you gain by cursing Nick

Munhall, to save my soul you brave… Although, to save my soul, I can’… ‘Tis naught to you, to me however… Why, bless it! you might save a mi… Yet lose your own; for still the ’…

I’ve sometimes wished that Ingers… To hold his tongue, nor rail again… For when he’s made a point some pi… Like Bartlett of the _Bulletin_ ‘… I brandish no iconoclastic fist,