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,

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 heard that Heaven was bright an… And politicians dwelt not there. ‘Twas said by knowing ones that th… Were in the Elsewhere-so to say. So, waking from my last long sleep…

You say, John Irish, Mr. Taylor… A painted beard. Quite likely tha… And sure 'tis natural you spend yo… On what has been least merciful to… By Taylor’s chin, if I am not mis…

A traveler observed one day A loaded fruit-tree by the way. And reining in his horse exclaimed… ‘The man is greatly to be blamed Who, careless of good morals, leav…

Each to his taste: some men prefer… At mystery, as others at piquet. Some sit in mystic meditation; som… Parade the street with tambourine… One studies to decipher ancient lo…

So, Governor, you would not serve… Although we’d all agree to pay you… You find it all is vanity and pain One clump of clover in a field of… One grain of pleasure in a peck of…

Ben Truman, you’re a genius and c… Though one would not suspect it fr… You lack that certain spareness wh… Distinctive of the persons who mak… You show the workmanship of Stanf…

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…

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…

As the poor ass that from his padd… Might sound abroad his field-compa… Recounting volubly their well-bred… Their port impressive and their we… Mistaking for the world’s assent t…

He held a book in his knotty paws, And its title grand read he: 'The Chronicles of the Kings’ it… By the History Companee. 'I’m a monarch,' he said

Well, well, old Father Christmas,… With your thick neck and thin pret… Less redness in the nose-nay, even… Would not, I think, particularly… When seen close to, not mounted in…

What! photograph in colors? 'Tis… And he who dreams it is not overwi… If colors are vibration they but s… And have no being. But if Tyndall… Why, come, then-photograph my lady…

As in a dream, strange epitaphs I… Inscribed on yet unquarried stone, Where wither flowers yet unstrown The Campo Santo of the time to be…