How blest the land that counts amo… Her sons so many good and wise, To execute great feats of tongue When troubles rise. Behold them mounting every stump,

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…

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 pig is taught by sermons and e… To think the God of Swine has sno… Judibras.

It is the gallant Seventh It fyghteth faste and free! God wot the where it fyghteth I ne desyre to be. The Gonfalon it flyeth,

‘What are those, father?’ ‘States… Lacrymose, unparliamentary, wild.’ ‘What are they that way for, fathe… ’Our candidate’s better,' they sai… ‘What did they say he was, father?…

God’s people sorely were oppressed… I heard their lamentations long; I hear their singing, clear and st… I see their banners in the West! The captains shout the battle-cry,

O Reverend Ravlin, once with soun… You shook the bloody banner of you… Urged all the fiery boycotters afi… And swore you’d rather follow them… Alas, how brief the time, how grea…

With crow bones all the land is wh… From the gates of morn to the gate… Picked clean, they lie on the cumb… And the politician’s paunch is rou… And he strokes it down and across…

‘Tis a woeful yarn,’ said the sail… Who had sailed the northern-lakes 'No woefuler one has ever been tol… Exceptin’ them called ‘fakes.’ ‘Go on, thou son of the wind and f…

Come in, old gentleman. How do yo… Delighted, I’m sure, that you’ve… I’m a sociable sort of a chap and… Are a pleasant-appearing person, t… With a head agreeably bald.

‘I beg you to note,’ said a Man t… As he plucked from her bosom the p… 'That pillows and cushions of feat… As warm as maids’ hearts and as so… Increase of life’s comforts the ge…

So, Parson Stebbins, you’ve relea… To say that here, and here, we pre… 'Tis a great thing an editor to sk… And hang his faulty pelt upon a na… (If over-eared, it has, at least,…

‘Tis Master Fitch, the editor; He takes an holiday. Now wherefore, venerable sir, So resolutely gay? He lifts his head, he laughs aloud…

Baffled he stands upon the track The automatic switches clack. Where’er he turns his solemn eyes The interlocking signals rise. The trains, before his visage pale…