B.
First
comes our good old Dr. “Bix”
Who
is up to all kinds of kid trix;
He’s not much in the talk,
But get into his walk –
Here’s
where he gets in his best lix.
C.
We
are proud of our novelist Comfort,
Whom
we know at writing has some forte;
He’s above writing jokes,
Which to a great many folks,
Is
most assuredly a bum forte.
C.
And
then we have Edmund Vance Cook,
Whom
the muses have never forsook;
As an actor he’s great,
Because of his mate,
Who
is Booth, or more likely his spook.
D.
And
then there is artist Denehey,
Whose
caricatures bring a tee-hee;
But not only that,
Though his pencil is pat,
He’s
a good fellow as all would agree.
F.
And
then there is good Georgie Fitch,
Who’s
attained a very high pitch,
And though he is tall,
And keeps close to the wall,
You’ll
not find him asleep at the switch.
G.
And
still there is Eddie A. Guest,
Who
by brightness has ever been blessed;
He’s a star in the sky
And no wonder gets by,
For
his name is almost a jest.
H.
Alas!
We have free-liver Hertzberg
Who
fondles too much with the Wurtzberg;
___________________hand,
___________________can’d
________________________________!
I.
Next
is Johnson from old Ill.,
Who
is Rockford’s new humorous bill;
His stuff it is great,
He’s our Swede laureate,
But
as yet he’s too modest and cill.
K.
And
then we have office boy Kiser,
A
spouting poetical geyser;
Though modest id Sam,
And still as a clam,
Whatever
he says is a riser.
L.
And
next we have James Melvin Lee,
Editor
of J-U-D-G-E;
He’s a dandy old chap
If he takes our old scrap –
If
he doesn’t he’s simply N-G!
L.
O,
here we have W.J. Lampy,
Who
writes in a hand that is crampy;
Whose most silent yawps,
Would waken a corpse,
Gee
whizz, he still is the champy!
L.
And
then there’s our jester named Leedy,
Who
is always on deck for the needy;
He can whistle and dance
And, as swift as a glance,
Can
hit of a joke that is speedy.
L.
Our
hats, they go off to Judd Lewis,
Each
beautiful verse of his new is;
With a heart like a child,
Sweet tempered and mild,
No
poet more trusted or true is.
M.
And
then there is poet Doug Mallock,
Whose
verse is imbued with a cali-
Co finish, tho’ ‘tis said
By some fellow sore head:
“That
fellow’s advance? O, waal luck!”
M.
Of
course we can’t skip old Joe Miller,
As
humorist a regular killer;
Though he says a la grand,
With his joke book in hand,
He
is merely writing a filler.
N.
And
then we have Bostonized Newt,
Newkirk,
our play-writing beaut;
His Bugle is read,
(Not the one in his head)
And
his top price – O, isn’t it cewt!
O.
Of
course we can’t leave out Ed Oliver,
The
great Yonkers dialog Bollivar;
When a girl with a frown
Says, “My goodness, sit down!”
Eddie
turns and shouts back, “O, the gall of her!”
R.
To
save time will include the two roses,
Who
sure are a pair of rich posies;
Though Will number one
Tries to beat his own son,
Number
two to the senior quite close is.
S.
Also
was a shaver named Schafer,
Who
is thin as a Cleveland wafer;
But he makes us all laugh
By his Third Primer chaff,
Tho’
at best he is naught but a chaffer.
S.
And
then we have paragraph Smith,
Whom
we always are glad to be with;
Although he’s a bluff,
He does really good stuff,
Assisted
by Mythes and Myth.
W.
And
now comes along “Father” Warner,
Our
great A.P.H.’s adorner;
But if there’s a ship
On that next summer’s trip,
As
a planner he’s simply a goner.
W.
And
still there’s a poet named Wells,
Who
has his poetical spells;
But he says, “What’s the use,
When the Buffalo News,
My
finest effusion repels.”
W.
And
last but not least is Cy Warman,
A
typical, joking “ha-haw” man;
Although she’s away
And Cy sigh as he may
We
trust he won’t turn to a Morman.
c. Sept. 15, ‘10
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