Women is strange. You take my ti… I know enough to know I’ll never… The 'uman female mind, or wot su’p… They 'as in store to bring yer boa… They keep yeh guessin’ wot they’re…

Jack Sprat would eat no fat, His wife would eat no lean, And so, betwixt them both, you see… They licked the platter clean. Old nursery rhyme

Mr. Pericles, M.P., In four-sixty-nine B.C., Outed Cimon at a general election… Premier Cimon, thuswise ex-ed, Was quite naturally vexed,

I said goodbye to the bees last F… To blooms, and to things like thes… Was shouting loud from the hills,… His gossamer net that fills frail… So I said goodbye to the bees; fo…

‘Excuse me if I sit on you,’ the… ‘I fear I’ve been here all the af… ‘Spare excuses,’ said the saucer;… ‘Oh, I’ll stir him up directly,'… ‘Stop your clatter! Stop your cl…

Mrs Munn, the midwife - Mother M… Wallowed in the world’s woes; sick… She spared no grisly detail as she… When - 'Me an’ Doctor Littlejohn… For - 'Me an’ Doctor Littlejohn…

As first I remember him: A red ma… Great Toll, the blacksmith, fille… At its first crisp, clamorous stro… Every morning I awoke To the ringing of his anvil as the…

Joseph Jones and Peter Dawking Strove in an election fight; And you’d think, to hear them talk… Each upheld the people’s right. Each declared he stood for Progre…

Galloping, galloping, galloping ho… Weave thro’ our dreaming in burgeo… There’s sun in our hearts and ther… And paeans of hope Winter’s thren… Over the hill-tops; for joy is a-w…

By lagoons and reedy places, Where the little river races By the lips of dreaming pools Where the soothing water cools Many a verdant slope and hollow,

‘Why stone the crows!’ ‘e sez. ’… But alwiz, some’ow, women ‘ave app… Set fer to ’old me orf a 'arf a mi… I dunno wot’s agin me: p’raps me b… But, some’ow, when I speak 'em so…

They were forthright days when Ji… When they called a spade a spade. And statesmen held in lofty scorn he trickster’s sticky trade. For their eyes were clear and thei…

Crow I detest the Carrion Crow! (He’s a raven, don’t you know?) He’s a greedy glutton, also, and a… And his sanctimonious caw

When artists wore a flowing mane, Then, in a sentimental vein, With pastorals they lured the eye, Or sad, sweet scenes of sea and sk… But now that hair sprouts from the…

Nay, Mr Speaker, let the ideal st… The picture that voters have in mi… Of Solons in debate far leagues a… Deep in the problems of poor human… Here where the Cotter wends by ve…