Master I may be,
But not of my fate.
Now come the kisses, too many too
Tell me, O Parcae,
For fain would I know,

In spite of her sniffle,
Isabel’s chiffle.
Some girls with a sniffle
Would be weepy and tiffle;
They would look awful,

First a little
Then a lottle

Some people, and it doesn’t matter

Candy
Is dandy,
But liquor
Is quicker

The solitary huntsman
No coat of pink doth wear,
But midnight black from cap to spu
Upon his midnight mare.
He drones a tuneless jingle

A bit of talcum
Is always walcum.

Isabel met an enormous bear,
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t care;
The bear was hungry, the bear was
The bear’s big mouth was cruel and
The bear said, Isabel, glad to me

Being a father
Is quite a bother.
You are as free as air
With time to spare,
You’re a fiscal rocket

I find it very difficult to enthus
Over the current news.
Just when you think that at least
And that is why I do not like the