A is defrauded of his land by B, Who’s driven from the premises by… D buys the place with coin of plun… 'That A’s an Anarchist!' says F…

So, gentle critics, you would have… Not at the guilty, only just at G… Spare the offender and condemn Of… And make life miserable to Preten… 'Whip Vice and Folly-that is sati…

'Why, Goldenson, you’re looking v… Said Death as, strolling through… He entered that serene assassin’s… And hung his hat and coat upon a n… ‘I think that life in this seclude…

'T was a maiden lady (the newspape… Pious and prim and a bit gone-gray… She slept like an angel, holy and… Till ten o’ the clock in the shank… (When men and other wild animals p…

Republicans think Jonas Bimm A Democrat gone mad, And Democrats consider him Republican and bad. The Tough reviles him as a Dude

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

Unbeautiful is the Piute! Howe’er bedecked with bravery, His person is unsavory Of soap he’s destitute. He multiplies upon the earth

'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…

As through the blue expanse he ski… On joyous wings, the late Frank Hutchings overtakes Miss S… Both bound for Heaven’s high gate… In life they loved and (God knows…

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…

I dreamed one night that Stephen… And for admission up at Heaven ap… ‘Who are you?’ asked St. Peter.… ‘Jeems Pipes, of Pipesville.’ Pe… Opened the gates and said: 'I’m g…

To him in whom the love of Nature… Imperfectly supplanted the desire And dread necessity of food, your… Fair Oakland, is a terror. Over a… Your sunny level, from Tamaletown

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…

Not all in sorrow and in tears, To pay of gratitude’s arrears The yearly sum Not prompted, wholly by the pride Of those for whom their friends ha…

When Admonition’s hand essays Our greed to curse, Its lifted finger oft displays Our missing purse.