In Pat Mahoney’s booze bazaar the… And Ragtime Billy spanked the bab… While caroling a saucy song was M… With sozzled sourdoughs giving her… When suddenly erupting in the gay…

A mattock high he swung; I watched him at his toil; With never gulp of lung He gashed the ruddy soil. Thought I, I’d give my wealth

He was our leader and our guide; He was our saviour and our star. We walked in friendship by his sid… Yet set him where our heroes are. He taught disdain of fame and weal…

Don’t cheer, damn you! Don’t chee… Silence! Your bitterest tear Is fulsomely sweet to—day. . . . Down on your knees and pray. See, they sing as they go,

When young I was a Socialist Despite my tender years; No blessed chance I ever missed To slam the profiteers. Yet though a fanatic I was,

She said: “I am too old to play With dolls,” and put them all away… Into a box, one rainy day. I think she must have felt some pa… She looked so long into the rain,

I envy not those gay galoots Who count on dying in their boots; For that, to tell the sober truth Sould be the privilege of youth; But aged bones are better sped

A bunch of the boys were whooping… The kid that handles the music—box… Back of the bar, in a solo game, s… And watching his luck was his ligh… When out of the night, which was f…

I took the clock down from the she… “At eight,” said I, “I shoot myse… It lacked a minute of the hour, And as I waited all a—cower, A skinful of black, boding pain,

In the Northland there were three Pukka Pliers of the pen; Two of them had Fame in fee And were loud and lusty men; By them like a shrimp was I —

Of course you’ve heard of the Nan… On her famous quest of the Arctic… For it was a foreign Prince’s whi… And a golden quid was no more to h… So we sailed away and our hearts w…

Since much has been your mirth And fair your fate, Friend, leave your lot of earth Less desolate. With frailing overdue,

When I was cub reporter I Would interview the Great, And sometimes they would make repl… And sometimes hesitate; But often they would sharply say,

When I am old and worse for wear I want to buy a rocking—chair, And set it on a porch where shine The stars of morning—glory vine; With just beyond, a gleam of grass…

“There’s something in your face,… There’s something quare that wasn’… “It’s just the Army life, mother,… That puts the stiffinin’ in yer sp… “There’s something in your eyes,…