Who Was Joe Cone?: Book of Quatrains - Vol. I - 3/1/91 to 1/1/08 Part Two (361-656)

361. Sweet Drugs, Tho’

“We’re drugs upon the market, eh?”

She asked with smile so bland;

“Oh well, you’re right; comparing us,

Supply exceeds demand.”

B. Courier, (Sept. 22, ’95)

(Appeared in numerous papers in 1895, this taken from The Kalona News, Kalona, Iowa, March 30, 1895)

http://kal.stparchive.com/Archive/KAL/KAL03301895P06.php

362. Just Dropped

Little drops of nickels,

In the slot machine;

Makes the owner fatter,

And the dropper lean.

R. by Puck, Judge and Truth, Pub. in B. Courier, (June 9, 1895)

363. In The Playhouse

Does “Moral’, “Art” and “noble thought”,

Make this or that play “all the rage”?

No; it is the “tous of scenery” and

The “greatest number on the stage”.

B. Courier, (Sept. 29, ’95?)

364. Some One Makes It

That some make money out of jokes,

Haven’t any doubt;

For every dollar I take in,

I pay some twenty out.

Pub. B. Courier, (Apr. 28, ’95)

365. Sapping and Lapping

Now doth the boy steal forth to tap

The maple trees with joy;

Meanwhile the farmer flail in hand

Steals up and taps the boy.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Mar. 17, 1895)

366. Bound To Swim

We’re bound to be within the swim,

Whether ‘tis bloom or bud;

The coastin’, skating swimmin’ is done,

And now we swim in mud.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Mar. 17, 1895)

367. Just Depends

The March Wind blew her skirts awry,

And blushed her cheek and shamed her eye;

Last year, a-wheel, she by me went

With bloomers, quite indifferent.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Mar. 24, ’95)

368. An Ex–, However

Conductor I would never be,

On pugilism do I frown;

Such business is too tough for me, ~~rich~~

There’s too much knocking down.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Mar. 24, ’95)

369. Alas! How soon the world forgets

At noble things to smile;

There hasn’t been a Sweet Marie

Joke out for quite a while.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Mar. 24, ’95)

370. Tomorrow will be April first,

The day for fun and ridicule;

And then we’ll see

If we’re to be,

An April wise of April fool.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Mar. 31, ’95)

371. Maid April smiles and by her wiles,

Makes millions idolize her;

And we poor tolls, but April fools,

Ne’er seem to grow much wiser.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Mar. 31, ’95)

372. Signs Of Spring

When gentle spring gets on the wing,

Or pretty nearly on it;

The Easter girl doth deftly twirl,

A wing upon her bonnet.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (Mar. 31, ’95)

373. Willing To Risk It

Microbes in kisses, you say? Oh, pshaw!

To convince me science must show it;

But so or not, I care not a straw,

So long as my girl doesn’t know it.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (Mar. 31, ’95)

374. Durn these troutin jokers,

Spile a feller’s dish;

Readin uv their fish jokes,

Makes a feller wanter fish.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (April 14, ’95)

375. Not Du Maurier’s Taffy

Little drops of ‘taffy”

On the agent’s tongue,

Sell goods unto women, ~~to those~~

Who are no longer young.

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth. Boston Courier, (June 16, ‘95)

George Louis Palmella Busson du Maurier (6 March 1834 – 8 October 1896) was a French-born British cartoonist and author, known for his cartoons in Punch and also for his novel Trilby. He was the father of actor Gerald du Maurier and grandfather of the writers Angela du Maurier and Dame Daphne du Maurier. He was also the father of Sylvia Llewelyn Davies and grandfather of the five boys who inspired J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_du_Maurier

376. Old blustering March has run his race,

Sweet April comes to take his place.

He welcomes April; why? You see,

It’s just because she is a she.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (Apr. 7, ’95)

377. Spring’s Ushers ~~Ushers Of Spring~~

A robin’s note, a sprout of grass,

A bonnet new and dear;

A deluge of ten thousand poems,

And spring is here!

Pub. in Boston Courier, (Apr. 7, ’95)

Emma Cone on right

378. War Or Rumors Of War?

The papers say the China war is good ez over now;

They’ve to how Li hez lost his cut, a dozen times, I trow;

Chen Yuen they’ve sunk a dozen times, men raised her up, but lor!

It won’t surprise me now tur hear thet they ain’t no war.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Apr. 7, ’95)

379. Little drops of water,

Falling on the dirt,

Make the fair Hub daughter,

Boldly lift her skirt.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (Apr. 14, ’95)

380. The Modern Trouter

All day he fools in brooks and pools,

And that’s the way he spends it;

A little trout, big money out,

And that’s the way he ends it.

Pub. in the Boston Courier

381. In town he is a shining light,

He mashes everything;

But when he tackles trout he fails,

To get them on a string.

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth, Pub. in B. Courier, (May 26, ’95)

282. Now doth the little busy trout

Improve each shining minute;

He takes a look

At chappie’s hook,

Then dodges out to skin it.

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth, Pub. in B. Courier, (May 19, ’95)

283. “Song Of The Brook” (Trout)

“Yum, yum. you patent leather dude,

Me bite your fly? O, never!

For men may come, and men may go,

But I go on forever.

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth, Pub. in Boston Courier, (Mar. 24 or 31, 1895)

384. Poems Hot And Cold

All o’er the land, to gentle spring,

Each bard our mind is calling;

And e’er their poems get to press,

Cold April snows are falling.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (Apr. 22, ’95)

385. Out Of The Frying Pan, Etc.

The funny men rejoice because

They’re through with coal and snow;

But how about the carpets, boys,

That need a beating so?

Pub. in B. Courier, (Apr. 22, ’95)

386. A Spring Longing

Lexow has cleaned out Gotham scum,

And cleaned it pretty fine;

O, for a Parkhurst and a Goff,

To clean this house of mine.

Pub. Boston Courier, (Apr. 22, ’95)

Lexow Committee (1894 - 1895). The name given to a major New York State Senate probe into police corruption in New York City. The Lexow Committee inquiry, which took its name from the Committee's chairman, State Senator Clarence Lexow, was the widest-ranging of several such commissions empaneled during the 19th century. The testimony collected during its hearings ran to over 10,000 pages and the resultant scandal played a major part in the defeat of Tammany Hall in the elections of 1894 and the election of the reform administration of Mayor William L. Strong. The investigations were initiated by pressure from Charles Henry Parkhurst. John W. Goff was Chief Counsel.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lexow_Committee

John William Goff (January 1, 1848 – November 9, 1924)
was an American lawyer and politician from New York.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_W._Goff

Charles Henry Parkhurst (April 17, 1842 – September 8, 1933) was an American clergyman and social reformer, born in Framingham, Massachusetts. Although scholarly and reserved, he preached two sermons in 1892 in which he attacked the political corruption of New York City government. Backed by the evidence he collected, his statements led to both the exposure of Tammany Hall and to subsequent social and political reforms.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Henry_Parkhurst

387. A fish on your hook

Is worth two in the brook.

Pub. B. Courier, (Apr. 22, ’95)

388. Song Of The Bridge

Another fool from me has dropped,

His slim life-cord to sever;

For fools they come and fools they go,

But I live on forever.

Boston Courier, (Apr. 22, ’95)

389. Little drops of taffy,

Sticking on a stick;

Makes the mother anxious,

And the children sick.

Pub. in B. Courier, (May 26, ’95)

390. Business Revival

Spring trade is on along the street,

Its cloud, confusion, din;

And Ikey stands beside his door

Just as he did the year before,

To buttonhole you in.

R. by Judge, Truth, Pub. in Boston Courier, (May 5, ’95)

391. We Fickle Bards

Sweet April soon will pass along,

Although she weeps to stay;

And then we’ll all be making love,

To her sweet sister May.

Boston Courier, (Apr. 28, ’95)

392. Now doth the little country boy hie to the babbling brook;

A piece of thread to make his line, a bent pin for his hook.

And grown up people laugh at him, but close observers say,

He has as much to show at night as any grown up jay.

Boston Courier, (Apr. 28, ’95)

393. Full of complaint is maiden spring

With many a flaw and fault;

However, we are glad to note,

She never has spring halt.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (May 5, ’95)

394. A Yard Bard

If you should wish to measure now,

The average modern bard;

Just take a rule the same as he,

And measure by the yard.

Pub. in B. Courier, (May 26, ’95)

395. A Puff

The smoker is in closer now,

He smiles at everyone he meets;

The open car is on again,

With “Smoking on the three rear seats”.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (Mar. 24 or 31, 1895)

396. Bones Over The Subway

When Boston people want a thing

They will not do without it.

But in pushing through the subway,

They’re making bones about it.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (May 12, ’95)

397. A Spring Event

Wednesday was warm, the careless man,

Opened his window wide;

Thursday he sent for doctors, and

Friday he died.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (May 12, ’95)

398. Sufficient Cause

I don’t want to play in your yard,

I don’t like you anymore;

For I stuck in me a sliver,

While sliding down your cellar door.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (May 12, ’95)

399. Be-hanged

May baskets, as in days of yore,

They hang through May’s still evening hours;

But murderers they hang no more,

But line their cells with notes and flowers.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (May 12, ’95)

400. Foes In The Field

Soon will the little busy bee

Improve each chance to lance

His enemy, the city boy,

Right through his outing pants.

R. by Puck, Judge, A. by Truth, Pub. in #428, June 29, ‘95

401. Change Of Diet

Pat Murphy’s goat is happy now,

That spring hath come to pass;

Because he’s changed his diet from

Old boots, base ball, broken glass

ware, crockery, tin cans, old brooms

and stove pipes,

To glass.

Pub. in B. Courier, (May 12, ’95)

402. Fair But –

Oh, blessed month, my fairy May! ~~fair~~

You are indeed a queen;

Your face is fair, your faults are few,

But I can never marry you,

You are a bit too green.

Pub. B. Courier, (May 19, 1895)

403. A Blessing

The theatre season closes now,

The chorus girl is mute;

Which gives young Giblets time to save

Up for a summer suit.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (May 19, 1895)

404. Add To The Ad

The summer landlord to his ad,

This little line should pen:

“We are offering inducements to ladies,

But special inducements to men.”

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth, Pub. in Boston Courier, (June 9, ‘95)

405. Where Will Be Billee?

Soon will the summer girls hie off

To “Ocean View” or “Ocean Spray”;

And trilby feet will pat the sands

From Maine to Florida.

Pub. in B. Courier, (May 26, ’95)

406. The Man Who Did

He wished to stop the coming car,

So to the white post waving ran;

And did he stop that West End coach?

Why, no; it was the motor-man.

Pub. in B. Courier, (May 26, ’95)

407. Gas Weary

Gas, gas, daily paper gas!

‘Twill put us yet to rout;

Please turn it down, or shut it off,

Or simply blow it out.

Pub. in B. Courier, (May 19, 1895)

408. And They Do It

Keep lawyers out of politics,

We firmly believe each party should;

For don’t you see that they can fix

The law to make their business good.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 2, 1895)

409. A Mighty Procession

I stood on the bridge at midnight,

As the clocks were striking apace;

And the bummers that reeled from the city,

Would fill up a two acre space.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 2, 1895)

410. An Aerial Elopement

Young man, beware how you embrace

The maid with such a mammoth sleeve;

Because if they should hap’ to fill,

You both this earth might quickly leave.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 2, 1895)

411. Starting Up

Complain you not of dull times now,

Upset and drain your sorrow’s cup;

List and you’ll hear industry’s hum,

For e’en the grass has started up.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (June 2, 1895)

412. Some One Lend Assistance

Our summer girl is in a stew,

Her sweet face puzzled growing;

She hasn’t chosen her hotel,

Because she, well, she cannot tell

Just where the men are going.

Pub. in Boston Courier, (June 9, ‘95)

413. He’s Coming

“I care not for fame or salary high,”

Said the sneak, bidding town farewell;

“The height of my modest ambition is this:

To work in a summer hotel.”

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 9 or 14, 1895)

414. The Very Thing

“Economy is wealth,” they say,

No one this saying will dispute;

And girls who ride should use today

Their bloomers for a bathing suit.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 9 or 14, 1895)

415. Speaking Of Kisses

The waves they kiss the shimmering sands,

And kiss the stones where the eddies whirl;

But the kiss of all kisses, the kiss we love,

Is the kissiest kiss of the summer girl. ~~seaside~~

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 16, ’95)

416. A Seaside Martyr

The girl stood on the burning sand,

She was a summer hit;

The reason why she stood so long,

It was too hot to sit.

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth. Boston Courier, (July 28, ’95)

417. Pig Wise And Pig Foolish

This little pig went to market,

This little pig stayed away;

And the pig who went to market,

Was butchered and sold next day.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 23, ’95)

418. Then And Now

The Ninety-Five wheels are strong and light,

They are built for but one, we ken;

But he who pushes a ninety-two,

Rides a bicycle built for ten.

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth. B. Courier, (July 28, ’95)

419. That Queer Maid ~~Girl~~

Why is she so jolly and good on the beach,

Allowing my smile and hand squeezes,

When later in town she gives me a frown,

And all of my love-making freezes?

Pub. in Boston Courier

420. Found At The Outing Counter

From head to foot he’s daily clad,

In a yachting suit quite merry;

But the only sail he ever had,

Was the Chelsea Street ferry.

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth. Boston Courier, (July 28, ’95)

421. An Improvement

The lover fond can’t see enough,

So says he,

Of his sweetheart, no never;

But since she’s donned a cycle suit,

He can see,

More of her now than ever.

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth. B. Courier, (Aug. 18, ’95)

422. A Turn In The Garden

I saw her in the garden,

She gave to me a rose;

Without a word of pardon,

I seized her garden hose.

She screamed, and danced, and turned to flee,

Then laughed, and turned the hose on me.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 23, ’95)

423. Wanted To Be Tough

He started out to put a head

On some poor wretch unknown;

He didn’t do it, tho’; by might

He’d simply lost his own.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 23, ’95)

424. A Man Of Push

All day he pushes his trade up smart,

And pushes his clerks from dawn;

But the hardest pushing he gets at eve,

With his mower cross his lawn.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 30, ’95)

425. The Summer Girl’s Illusion ~~Dream~~

Dear summer girl, dear frightened maid,

You do not know me, I’m afraid.

I’m not a monster from the sea,

I’m just a man; just simply me.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 30, ’95)

426. A Case For A Reporter

This man he’s hard to understand,

Or locate hereabout;

I’ve never found him in, and so

I cannot find him out.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 30, ’95)

427. A Kiss In The Kitchen

I kiss her when I leave for town,

But not on my return;

“My wife?” O, no; she’s fast asleep,

It’s Biddy H. O’Hearn. Y.

R. by Uncle Sam, Puck, Free Press, Pub. in B. Courier, (Aug. 18, ’95)

(all I’ve found thus far that even comes close is a single reference in a recent piece on the Irish Potato Famine:

https://books.google.com/books?id=lY7hAAAAQBAJ&pg=PA66&lpg=PA66&dq=%22Biddy+O%27Hearn%22&source=bl&ots=wyiXZL6ylj&sig=4cGIl4iHhAYNZl5rJJxKHZrhE-A&hl=en&sa=X&ei=gVIDVavaKIb_ggSf9YCoCA&ved=0CB8Q6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=%22Biddy%20O'Hearn%22&f=false

There was also a Bridget O’Hearn living in Cambridge:

Cambridge Sentinel, Volume 4, Number 51, 24 October 1908

http://cambridge.dlconsulting.com/cgi-bin/cambridge?a=d&d=Sentinel19081024-01.2.31&e=-------en-20--1--txt-IN-----# )

428. Lock Your Closet, Brother

No longer are the maidens striving to outdo each other, she is merely striving nowadays to out do her mannish brother. She takes his ties and collars, and if she gets the chance, she will, in my opinion, be a-swiping of his pants.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 30, ’95)

429. Those Little Hats

She took off her hat and laid it down,

Then looked about in dismay;

Her husband had pinned it onto his coat,

Thinking it was a bouquet.

Pub. in B. Courier, (June 30, ’95)

430. The boy stood on the kitchen floor,

He could not sit him down;

Because his mother, on his pants,

Had laid her slipper brown.

B. Courier, (Aug. 18, ’95)

431. A Little Truth, Prose, And Poetry

They say you can’t learn

An old dog new tricks;

Nor some persons to turn

Up their candle wicks

‘Till they have struck the match; then it gets short and burns their fingers, while they swear, break the chimney, and blame their wives for the whole business.

B. Courier, (July 7, ’95)

432. Good Day, But Not Good Bye

The summer girl is on the wing,

Cries he in town, “Alack!”

But never fear, when autumn comes,

She’ll be a-flying back.

B. Courier, (July 7, ‘95)

433. King, Duke, Count Or Poodle

Our wealthy girls have gone abroad,

With money by the stack;

And now we wait in fear to see,

What they’ll be leading back.

R. by Puck, Life, Judge, Sifting, Truth. Pub. in B. Courier, (Nov. 3, ’95)

434. A Rustic Couple

He was the village blacksmith,

And she kept chickens, out of pens;

He spent his time in shoeing horses,

And she in shooing hens.

B. Courier, (July 7, ‘95)

435. The Modern Philanthropist

It’s funny to see in these latter days,

What some persons will do for renown;

He left all of his wealth to a college,

While his family went on the town.

R. by Puck, Life, Judge, Siftings, Truth. Pub. in B. Courier, (Nov. 3, ’95)

436. Tommy’s Fourth Of July Journey

The cannon cracker did not go,

He crept to see;

And then it went off suddenly,

And so did he.

B. Courier, (July 7, ’95)

437. A Summer Wish

I wish I wuz a sailor

A sailor o’er the sea;

I wouldn’t be a sittin’,

Here a swearin’ an’ a spittin’,

With muskeeters bitin’ me

B. Courier, (July 7, ’95)

438. The Only Help We Can Give

We hope the Cuban rebels,

Will be cocks of the roost;

And we send this little poem,

As a cock-a-doodle boost.

B. Courier, (July 14, ’95)

439. Mr. Moon

Sometimes he’s full and sometimes half,

And sometimes only quarter;

But full or not, he never drinks

Poor whiskey, wine or water.

R. by Puck, Judge, Life, Siftings, Truth. Pub. in B. Courier.

440. Fault With The Wather Clerk

Said Willie Wicks, “the man who makes

The weathe’ ith a dunthe;

For sixteen weeks ‘twas droy ath toast,

And now it’s wained a month.

R. by Puck, Judge, Siftings, Life, Truth. Pub. in B. Courier, (Dec. 1, ’95?)

441. A Use For The Mosquito

When things are dull around the shore,

And all the folks are still;

If nothing better comes along,

The mosquito fills the bill.

Pub. in B. Courier, (July 21, ’95)

442. Winter Girls In Summer, And Vice Versa

This summer maiden business is a gittin purty tame;

In every book an’ maggerzine it’s erbout the same;

When the weather is the hottest we see the most uv it;

Why not a winter girl instead, tur cool us down a bit.

B. Courier, (July 14, ‘95)

443. The Summer Girl’s Fear

(Full vs. Empty)

Seaside resorts are filling up,

And balls are coming thickly;

And dear papa’s fat purse, I fear,

Is emptying as quickly.

B. Courier, (July 7, ’95)

444. A Chance To Buy

“When summer comes again,” she sang,

In tones both flat and cold;

“When summer comes again,” she swore,

“That piano will be sold!”

B. Courier, (July 21, ’95)

445. Even Down In The Country

In the prison cell I sit,

Thinking of the days gone by,

And of mother and of sister o’er and o’er;

For I’m married now you see,

And my wife, “New Woman” she,

And I’m home while she’s a-talking in the store.

Pub. in B. Courier, (July 21, ’95)

446. The Earth Fenced In

“You’re all the world to me,” he said,

He’d take her as he found her;

“Ha, ha!” her former lover smiled,

“You’ll need a fence around her.”

Pub. in B. Courier, (July 21, ’95)

July 17, 1895

447. Its Own, Its Native Land

A maiden went out on a yacht,

It blew and she felt very quacht;

She vomited, too,

And her oyster stoo

Went back to its own native spacht.

B. Courier, (Aug. 11, ’95)

448. On Musick

i woodn’t gyve a pickeyoon

2 heer thee laitest catchee 2oon;

i warnt 2 here, iff ennythyng,

Thee old-tyme songs they yoosed 2 syng.

B. Courier, (Aug. 11, ’95)

449. Upon that yachting cup we look

With loving eyes and tender;

And to our bran new queen we cry,

“Defender, Oh, defend her!”

B. Courier, (July 28, ’95)

Defender was the victorious United States defender of the tenth America's Cup in 1895 against challenger Valkyrie III. Defender was designed by Nathanael Greene Herreshoff and built by the Herreshoff Manufacturing Company in 1895. It was Herreshoff's second victorious America's Cup defender design.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Defender_(yacht)

Defender on July 20, 1895,

six weeks before the 1895 America's Cup

450. Mr. Muskeeter

He’d be more popular

At the shore,

If he wasn’t

Such a bore.

B. Courier, (July 28, ’95)

451. Don’t think the organ grinder’s work

Beats every other kind;

He has to hear the airs, besides

He has the daily grind.

B. Courier, (Aug. 11, ’95)

452. She slipped upon the pavement wet,

We heard the thud;

And then her name was changed from Pet

To mud.

B. Courier, (Aug. 11, ’95)

453. Hot Stuff

I met her coming through the rye,

She warmly welcomed me;

In fact she left a burning spot,

She was a bumble bee.

B. Courier, (Sept. 1, ’95)

454. Yankee Shrewdness

Our Mary had a little lamb,

A little flour and tea;

And using this and that she made,

A meal for 23.

B. Courier, (Aug. 18, ’95)

455. Oh, R!

The oysteR in the deep blue sea

Is taking comfort to the brim;

But when SeptembeR comes along,

Someone will be a-taking him.

B. Courier, (Aug. 18, ’95)

456. We Know Whereof We Speak

Green apples now are in their prime,

The small boy he doth frolic;

They come each year about this time,

And with them comes the colic.

Pub. B. Courier, (Aug 4, ’95)

457. A Puzzler

How is it ball players

Are working like tykes,

And yet say the papers,

They’re out upon strikes.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Aug. 4, ’95)

458. Longing To Know

Oh, Trilby dear the bucket has kicked,

And so has Sweet Marie;

And all we’re longing to know just now,

Is “who will our next girl be?”

Pub. in B. Courier, (Aug. 4, ’95)

Trilby is a novel by George du Maurier and one of the most popular novels of its time. Published serially in Harper's Monthly in 1894, it was published in book form in 1895 and sold 200,000 copies in the United States alone.[1] Trilby is set in the 1850s in an idyllic bohemian Paris. Though it features the stories of two English artists and a Scottish artist, one of the most memorable characters is Svengali, a Jewish rogue, masterful musician and hypnotist.

Trilby O'Ferrall, the novel's heroine, is a half-Irish girl working in Paris as an artists' model and laundress; all the m n in the novel are in love with her. The relationship between Trilby and Svengali forms only a small, though crucial, portion of the novel, which is mainly an evocation of a milieu.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trilby_%28novel%29 459. By Popular Subscription

If they keep unearthing crimes,

Of Holmes to such extent;

Ere long some softy will propose

To him a monument.

Pub. B. Courier, (Aug. 11, ’95)

460. A Change Of Thrill

She starts, she moves, she seems to feel

The thrill of life within her wheel;

She goes, she spurts, she strikes a stone,

The thrill shifts to her spinal bone.

B. Courier, (Aug. 11, ’95)

461. Her Sunny Smile

There was a young maiden of Boston,

Whose smile someone said there was frost on.

But that wasn’t so,

For don’t we all know

Her smile would melt ice were it tossed on.

B. Courier, (Aug. 18, ’95)

462. Exit Alphonso

In the gloaming, Oh, my darling,

Shadows come and shadows go;

In the gloaming, good bye darling,

That is “pa” and “Tray”, I know.

(“They softly come, I softly go.”)

B. Courier, (Aug. 25, ’95)

gloaming – twilight or dusk

Alphnso, “pa”, “Tray” – not sure.

Love's Old Sweet Song is an Irish folk song published in 1884 by composer James Lynam Molloy and lyricist G. Clifton Bingham. The first line of the chorus is "Just A Song At Twilight", and it is sometimes misidentified as such.

The song has been recorded by many artists, including John McCormack and Clara Butt. The song is alluded to in James Joyce's Ulysses as being sung by Molly Bloom. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love%27s_Old_Sweet_Song

Once in the dear dead days beyond recall,

When on the world the mists began to fall,

Out of the dreams that rose in happy throng

Low to our hearts Love sang an old sweet song;

And in the dusk where fell the firelight gleam,

Softly it wove itself into our dream.

Just a song a twilight, when the lights are low,

And the flick'ring shadows softly come and go,

Tho' the heart be weary, sad the day and long,

Still to us at twilight comes Love's old song,

comes Love's old sweet song.

Even today we hear Love's song of yore,

Deep in our hearts it dwells forevermore.

Footsteps may falter, weary grow the way,

Still we can hear it at the close of day.

So till the end, when life's dim shadows fall,

Love will be found the sweetest song of all.

Just a song a twilight, when the lights are low,

And the flick'ring shadows softly come and go,

Tho' the heart be weary, sad the day and long,

Still to us at twilight comes Love's old song,

comes Love's old sweet song.

463. ~~Doubtless You Have Some~~

~~If you have the interest of Puck at heart,~~

~~And have a joke that is sharp and funny;~~

~~Write it on the back of a “reject” card,~~

~~And save the old fellow both time and money.~~

(Sent with an illustration, showing the idea)

R. by Puck, Truth

(Entire poem crossed out in book of handwritten Quatrains)

464. The Girl For Me

There’s the girl who thinks she’s pretty,

And the girl who thinks she’s witty,

And the girl who doesn’t think about her little self at all;

These two I’ve spooned all summer,

And you put me down a bummer,

If I do not wed the latter in the red and rosy fall.

B. Courier, (Aug. 25, ’95)

465. My Favorite

“How do you like the sad refrain?”

She asked, the notes still ringing;

“There is but one that’s sweeter, dear,

It is “Refrain from singing.”

B. Courier, (Aug. 25, ’95)

466. There’s many a joke

On the man who is broke,

And the fellow who’s not to be trusted;

But it’s small just the same,

To make so much game

Of the fellow teetotally busted!

B. Courier, (Sept. 1, ’95)

467. The Neglected Summer Girl

She’s left the sad and cruel sea,

She did not quite fulfill her plan;

“I must get back to town,” cried she,

“And gaze upon the face of man.”

B. Courier, (Sept. 1, ’95)

468. Time Lost

What’s the use in gittin’ mad,

Feelin’ sour an’ scrappy?

All the time you’re feelin’ sad,

That time’s lost fur feelin’ happy.

B. Courier, (Sept. 1, ’95)

469. A Poem On The Sand

If I could write a poem grand,

Of fifteen thousand lines or more;

I’d write one all about the “sand”,

We see along the beach and shore.

B. Courier, (Sept. 11, ’95)

470. Hands Off

The girl who has a dozen beaus

Should never feel alarmed;

For everyone who knows her knows

She goes about well armed.

R. by Puck, Judge, Siftings, Life, Truth. B. Courier, (Nov. 10, ’95)

471. Not A Drop

I never drank a drop of beer,

Nor wine nor whiskey old;

For if I drank at all my glass

Was full as it would hold.

R. by Puck, Judge, Siftings, Life, Truth. B. Courier, (Nov. 10, ’95)

472. The Minister

He can marry you, he can marry me,

And do it for naught or pelf;

So why can he not,

If a license he’s got,

Turn about and marry himself?

R. by Puck, Judge, Siftings, Life, Truth. B. Courier, (Nov. 10, ’95)

pelf- money, especially when gained in a dishonest or dishonorable way.

473. But It’s Sport, Though!

The flies have been cast,

And the fishing is past,

And the angler he has returned;

His spirits are damp,

For before he left camp,

His money it all had been burned.

B. Courier, (Sept. 8, ’95)

474. Had A Good Time

She sat before me at the play,

She was a beauty quite;

The house was full, the air was cool,

The play was out of sight.

B. Courier, (Sept. 8, ’95)

475. Then And Now

Her fingers soft, full oft and oft,

Were in my brown locks bedded;

And now I swear, they still are there,

She snatched me bald headed.

B. Courier, (Sept. 22, ‘95)

476. What, Indeed?

What is home without a mother,

What is life without a brother;

And what is fortune unless you have kissed her,

And life without another fellow’s sister?

B. Courier, (Oct. 6, ‘95)

477. A Change Of Opinion

I hunged up my stockin’ and

I didn’t get nuffin’ in it;

Now I don’t believe in Santa Clause,

Not even for a minute.

R. by Truth, Puck, World, To Date, Journal. C. Press

478. The Borrower ~~Him Who Borrows~~

There’s the man who borrows of this and that,

Who gets of his share about double;

Tho’ he makes us full sad

He isn’t so bad,

As the cuzz who is borrowing trouble. ~~cuss~~

B. Courier, (Sept. 15, ’95)

479. Spun Out

Where are you going my pretty, pretty maid?

I’m going for a spin, kind sir, she said;

I guess I’ll spin with you, fair maid, he said,

But instead he went spinning upon his head.

B. Courier, (Sept. 6, ’95)

480, What They Take

For taking things real hot they say,

The baker takes the bake;

But for taking in things cool all day,

The iceman takes the cake.

P. B. Courier, Sept. 15, ‘95

481. Johnny’s Got Tur Push

It hain’t no use in talkin’ now they kennot sail a boat.

They think they’ve got a trotter when it’s nothin’ but a goat;

An’ ef they’re goin’ tur take thet cup tew Johnny Bull’s domains,

They’ve got tur get a better hoss, or push upon the reins.

B. Courier, (Sept. 22, ’95)

482. City And Country

The summer doth begin to wane,

The city folks are fleeing;

The farmer, gloating o’er his grain,

Takes up his routine once again,

Of hawing and geeing.

B. Courier, (Sept. 29, ’95)

483. Stray Shots

Before

The gunner’s on the move,

The bird is on the wing;

After

The gunner’s lying down,

His arm is in a sling.

B. Courier, (Nov. 24, ’95)

484. Suburban Booms

The booming cannon now is still,

It could not keep apace;

The bass drum boom no more is heard,

The land boom takes its place.

B. Courier, (Sept. 29, ’95)

485. Died For Art

He’d nothing but his violin,

I’d nothing but a gun;

But when the blunderbuss went off,

His short career was run. ~~done.~~

B. Courier, (Sept. 29, ’95)

486. My Gal And Autumn

O, red an’ rosy are the hills, an’ autumn time is here;

The fair an’ autumn harvest time, the pride uv all the year;

O, red an’ rosy are the cheeks upon the girl fur me,

But in her heart it’s summertime, jest ez it yuster be.

B. Courier, (Sept. 29, ’95?)

487. With Her Stage Face On

She is a pretty creature as she flutters on the stage,

For it is her brilliant beauty that has made her such a rage;

But I know her beauty’s borrowed from the nearest druggist’s place,

For she’s homely as a scarecrow when she washes off her face.

B. Courier, (Nov. 17, ’95)

488. Called In

Fair autumn days are going by,

King Winter is aroused;

The last straw hat,

And yacht suit pat,

And the open car is housed.

B. Courier, (Oct. 13, ’95)

489. Right Of Way

The motor man may honest be,

And have no record black;

But still he never likes to see

Folks getting on his track. ~~setting~~

B. Courier, (Oct. 13, ’95)

490. Men Wanted

Wanted: Ten thousand generals,

And fifty million fighters;

To join the Spanish Army and

To chase the Cuban flighters.

B. Courier, (Oct. 28, ’95)

491. Have You Met Her?

The Woman New is round about,

Discussing politics;

Also to learn what show is hers

To run in ’96.

B. Courier, (Oct. 28, ’95)

492 Not Two Of A Kind

Along the shady country road,

Beside the pasture sweet;

The one afoot the other awheel,

Doth peddler and peddler meet.

R. by Truth, Puck, Up To Date, Journal, Judge. C. Press, (late ’96 or early ’97)

493. It Is Good To Be Here

The Hub of all the universe,

Where art and money hold full sway;

Where brains and beans

Are daily scenes,

Is where the actor likes to stay.

B. Courier, (Nov. 17, ’95)

494. Go To Farming

Oh, Peary please settle down,

While you with life are blest;

And give yourself, the world at large,

And poor North Pole a rest.

B. Courier, (Oct. 20, ’95)

495. Unholy Business

They’re making a hole in Boston soil,

In putting the subway through;

And at the same time they’re making a hole

In Boston’s treasury too.

B. Courier, (Oct. 27, ’95)

496. The Fatal City

If you desire a speedy death,

Without a lingering hitch or jar;

Just try the famous Brooklyn Bridge,

Or else the Brooklyn trolley car.

R. by Puck, Truth, Judge, Pub. in Courier.

497. Trembling In Our Shoes

No politics is bothering us,

We hate its sight and sound;

The thought that knocks us all askew,

Is what the modern maid will do

When leap year comes around.

R. by Truth. B. Courier, (Dec. 8, ’95?)

498. Dropped From The Fourth Story

The melancholy days have come,

The saddest of the year;

For when the oil stove takes a rest,

It’s “lug up coal, my dear.”

B. Courier, (Nov. 17, ’95)

499. The Ball And Bawl

The Paderwiski headed youth

Has left the farm and all;

And hied himself to college for,

To kick the Trilby ball.

B. Courier, (Oct. 28, ’95)

Paderwiski may be a variant spelling (it appears as such in several places) for Ignacy Jan Paderewski - 18 November [O.S. 6 November] 1860 – 29 June 1941) who was a Polish pianist and composer, politician, and spokesman for Polish independence. He was a favorite of concert audiences around the globe. His musical fame opened access to diplomats and the media. He was the prime minister and foreign minister of Poland in 1919, and represented Poland at the Paris Peace Conference in 1919.

His brilliant playing created a furor which reached to almost extravagant lengths of admiration; and his triumphs were repeated in the United States in 1891. His name at once became synonymous with the highest level of piano virtuosity.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ignacy_Jan_Paderewski

Trilby can be a type of narrow brimmed hat, but more likely refers to a popular novel published in Harpers in 1894. See #’s 375, 458.

500. Git Ready!

Ol’ winter’s on the warpath, don’t yew let him ketch yew nappin’;

He is comin’ on the fences, an’ his wings er spread an’ flappin’.

Git yewr coalbin full uv shiners, git yewr nester out uv hock, ~~eout~~

An’ ef yew’ve got the flannels yew’ll be ready fur the shock.

B. Courier, (Oct. 27, ’95)

501. She Can’t Be Beat

What will the bloomer maiden do,

When winter gives her bike a roast? ~~byke~~

Will she repine? Not she divine,

She’ll use her bloomers then to coast.

B. Courier, (Nov. 24, ’95)

502. Jack In Real Life

Little Jack Horner, was sent in a corner ~~sat~~

And wept as if to die;

He’d stuck in his thumb, and pulled out a plum,

From his mother’s Christmas pie.

R. by World, Truth, To Date, Puck, Journal. C. Press

503. Costly Gunning

The hunters have returned from Maine,

With empty hands, I hear;

They journeyed there for buck, I ween,

But found the trip was “dear”.

B. Courier, (Nov. 3, ’95)

504. Yes, They’ve “Got Him On The List”

Young man, perchance, you want to vote –

(This hint is no Mikado twist) –

Just stroll around your ward and note

If they have “got you on the list”.

B. Courier, (Nov. 3, ’95)

505. In Boston Especially

The trolley car, that is the thing,

Just ram it, cram it full;

And then you cannot stop it for

It’s got an awful pull.

B. Courier, (Nov. 10, ’95?)

506. Not Farming, But Bill Exposed

If all reports of Bill are true,

Say I,

We’d rather have him far away

Than Nye.

B. Courier, (Nov. 10, ’95)

Edgar Wilson "Bill" Nye (August 25, 1850 – February 22, 1896) was a distinguished American Journalist, who later became widely known as a humorist. He was also the founder and editor of the Laramie Boomerang.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Wilson_Nye

From the Utica Weekly Herald, Wednesday, November 6, 1895, p. 10:

Bill Nye," the humorist", and Bert Poole were advertised to deliver a lecture In the First Baptist church at Paterson, N. J., Tuesday night, on "Farming exposed." It was soon apparent that Nye was in his cups, and he was very coldly received. After-the lecture Nye and Poole drove in a carriage to the Erie station to take the midnight train for New York. A crowd of young men secured eggs that had ripened and pelted the carriage. Nye was struck in the back and the carriage was besmirched.
http://www.fultonhistory.com/Process%20small/Newspapers/Utica%20NY%20Weekly%20Herald/Utica%20NY%20Weekly%20Herald%201892%20-%201894.pdf/Utica%20NY%20Weekly%20Herald%201892%20-%201894%20-%200922.pdf

507. Under the spreading chestnut tree

The country boy now goes;

Where, if he hasn’t on his shoes,

Gets burrs stuck in his toes.

B. Courier, (Nov. 24, ’95)

508. November Scene

Winter fast approachin,

Thanksgivin dinner nigh;

Darkies out a poachin’ ~~Niggers~~

Turkeys roostin high.

B. Courier, (Nov. 17, ’95)

(NOTE – I’ve left what are often inappropriate or even racial terms and or descriptions as written. They are rare, and probably weren’t seen as objectionable within even New England society at the time. More importantly, they exist, and editing them out would be dishonest. Things were what they were. Still, including them, as I have done, remains awkward for obvious reasons, including personal taste and the harmfulness of their use. Hopefully, doing so will at least present an accurate picture of how ingrained some prejudices, or at least callousness to them, still were at the time, even among some of the more progressive people of the era.)

509. But She Didn’t Stay

She stood up in a trolley car,

She did not hold a strap;

The car went round a curve and she,

She sat down in my lap.

R. by Puck, Truth. B. Courier, (Dec. 8, ’95)

510. The Wingless Bee

How doth the busy gossip bee

Improve each shining minute,

By gathering trouble, all the day,

Then getting people in it.

B. Courier, Puck, May 5, 1897

511. A Too Girly Girl

Lend me thine ear, O gentle maid,

Lend me thine ear alack!

“I would,” she said, “but I’m afraid,

You’d never bring it back.”

B. Courier, (Dec. 1, ’95)

512. The Next President

“Who next will be our president?”

By this, we’re now affected;

But after all, ‘tis plain enough,

‘Twill be the man elected.

B. Courier, (Dec. 8, ’95?)

513. Jack and Jill went up the hill ~~Gill~~

To fetch a pail of water.

And on their way Jill said to Jack ~~Gill~~

that she was going to become a new woman;

that is to say, she was going to take a man’s

place in the world, so Jack made her lug the

bucket back, doing

The very thing he orter.

B. Courier, (Dec. 1, ’95)

514. Modern Mary

And then he ran to her and laid

His head upon her arm;

“You are a Woman New,” he prayed,

“And from the enemies I’ve made,

You’ll keep me from all harm.

R. by Puck, Truth, Pub. B. Courier, (Dec. 29, ‘95)

515. Snub not the boy who papers sells ~~Don’t snub~~

Or blacks up your boots so fine;

The newsboy yet may buy the press,

And the bootblack he may shine.

B. Courier, (Mar. 8, ‘96)

516. Swift And Sure

Some take to hard drink when trouble comes near,

Some take but a glass and no more;

But just take a drop from the Brooklyn Bridge,

And all of your trouble is o’er.

R. by Judge, Truth, Journal, World, Puck, F. Press, To Date, B.K.M.. Ct. Val. Ad.

517. Empty Handed

“I’d offer thee this hand of mine,”

He sang as clear as any linnet;

“Thy hand-some offer I decline,”

Sang she, “because there’s nothing in it.”

R. by Truth, Puck, Judge, World. B. Courier, (Mar. 1, ‘96)

linnet - a common small brownish Old World finch (Acanthis cannabina) of which the male has red on the breast and crown during breeding season.
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/linnet

518. But Not From The Hudson

I stood on the bridge at midnight,

And soon I was to jump into fame;

Alas! a copper grasped me tight,

But I got pulled in, all the same.

B. Courier, (Dec. 29, ‘95)

519. How To Run A Business

He run a business, so they say,

And didn’t advertise a pound;

He urn it swift, but by the way,

He run it straight into the ground.

B. Courier, (Dec. 22, ’95?)

520. Lost

Kathleen she is our office girl, and wondrous fair is she;

I overtake her in the morn, and oft she waits for me;

That is, perchance, the weather’s fair, but if the streets are wet;

Or if it blows a living gale, she takes a car, you bet.

B. Courier, (Dec. 1, ’95)

521. A False Front

There was a little girl,

And she had a little curl,

And it hung right down her forrid;

The a little wind gust,

Blew it off into the dust,

And she swore off the wig maker horrid.

R. by Judge, Truth, F. Press, World, Puck, To Date, B.K.M., Journal. Camb. Press, Nov. 21, ‘96

522. The day is cold and dark and dreary;

It rains and my brain is sore and weary;

More days than one of this mouldering wall; ~~near~~

My sentence is thirty days in all.

R. by Judge, Truth, F. Press, World, Puck, To Date, B.K.M., Journal. Conn. Valley Advertiser

523. Not a single joke on the summer girl,

Is going the rounds of the press;

Which makes me wish that the winter time, us

Was ten months long I confess.

B. Courier, (Dec. 22, ’95)

524. The Difference

“Four more years of Grover?”

Nay, nay.

“Another year of William”?

Yes, yes.

Pub. in Camb. Press

525. The Way To Vote

Vote early, vote rightly, and vote with a will,

Give corruption its death dealing blow;

Vote as you never have voted before,

Providing you didn’t vote “no”.

Camb. Press

526. The poets on snow have had to wait,

An extra long time this year;

And because of this fact,

The press will be packed

Unusually full now of fear.

B. Courier

527. Say I

The Globe and the transcript

Are mighty fine folks;

And why?

(They copy our jokes)

528. Howdy, Uncle Josh

Now is the time when Uncle Josh

Becomes a city comer;

And makes it square with all the cads,

Who lived on him last summer.

B. Courier, (Dec. 8, ’95?)

529. Dear Dear

I’d like much to give her a present,

She’s as dear little elf as can be.

To do so would be very pleasant,

But present are dearer than she.

R. by World, Truth, Puck. C. Press

530. Once More Relieved

I like the New Year best of all,

Methinks I hear you say, “how queer”.

But no; you see my poor resolves

Are all resolved for one whole year.

R. by World, Truth, A. by Up To Date, Pub. Jan. 16, ‘97

531. Crimm’s Son, ‘97

A ton of bricks fell onto him,

According to report.

He crawled from underneath the pile,

And cried, with his old college smile,

“By Jove, but that was sport.”

B. Courier, (Dec. 8, ’95?)

532. Stood For A Rest

I stood on the bridge at midnight,

As the clock was striking the time;

I had to walk home from the city,

For I hadn’t a nickel or dime.

B. Courier, (Dec. 22, ’95)

533. A Great Writer

A novel or a play

He has never tried to slay.

Nor has he joined the politicizing van;

But you see he’s got the stuff

And at writing makes a bluff,

So he’s known, as a literary man.

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth, World. B. Courier, (Mar. 1, ‘96)

534. By Cracky

A cracking time they were to have,

The joker lost his pelf;

He cracked a joke upon the crowd,

And then got cracked himself.

B. Courier, (Jan. 12, ‘96)

pelf – money or riches

535. The Reason

There’s only one girl

In all the world for me,

Because I was so foolish as

To marry her, you see.

B. Courier, (Jan. 12, ‘96)

536. Poor But Happy

We hev done our Christmas shoppin’,

An’ our pocketbooks are lean;

But we’ve set the youngster hoppin’,

An’ we’re happy an’ serene.

B. Courier, (Dec. 22, ’95)

537. Dec. 24, ‘95

It Follows

Why is it that actors are all the rage,

On the social swim such factors?

The actors simply follow the stage,

And the people follow the actor.

B. Courier, (Dec. 22, ’95)

538. “Jes’ ‘Fore Christmas”

The stores are stocked with books and toys,

For good little girls and good little boys.

And all the boys and girls I see

Are just as good as they can be.

B. Courier, (Dec. 22, ’95)

539. That love goes where it’s sent I doubt,

Tho’ once I well believed it;

For, tho’ I’ve sent for years, she’s made

No sign that she’s received it.

R. by Puck, Sun, Judge, Truth, World. B. Courier, (Mar. 8, ‘96)

540. Pulling All Along The Line

The wife at home she pulls your hair,

Until she makes you beg;

The brawny dentist pulls your tooth,

The flirt your heart strings pulls forsooth,

The world then pulls your leg.

Pub. B. Courier, (Feb. 9, ‘96)

541. Newspaper Talk

The papers talk a lot whene’er

A green Christmas is seen;

Which seems so queer,

When every year,

We have our Christmas green.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Dec. 29, ‘95)

542. Come Away And Keep Still

Ef Benjy wants tur marry,

Why don’t the country let him;

It’s a-goin’ tur be a woman,

Thet’s gonter get him. ~~goin’ tur~~

B. Courier, (Dec. 29, ’95)

Benjamin Harrison (August 20, 1833 – March 13, 1901) was the 23rd President of the United States (1889–1893).

In 1896, Harrison at age 62 remarried, to Mary Scott Lord Dimmick, the widowed 37-year- old niece and former secretary of his deceased wife. Harrison's two adult children, Russell, 41 years old at the time, and Mary (Mamie) McKee, 38, disapproved of the marriage and did not attend the wedding. Benjamin and Mary had one child together,Elizabeth (February 21, 1897 – December 26, 1955)

Harrison's wife Caroline began a critical struggle with tuberculosis earlier in 1892 and two weeks before the election, on October 25, it took her life.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benjamin_Harrison

543. Read, Reason and Reflect

The bill board ad. may catch some eyes,

But it doesn’t do half they claim;

The newspaper ad, isn’t half the size,

But it gets there just the same.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Jan. 5, ‘96)

544. Get ‘Em On A String

Dear girls, a pointer here’s for you:

As nears your wedding day,

Your bridegroom put in heavy irons,

So he can’t run away.

B. Courier, (Jan. 5, ‘96)

545. My Great Resolve

I have resolved the coming year,

Each girl acquaintance to ignore;

Then when leap year,

Shall disappear,

I’ll make love to ‘em all once more.

B. Courier, (Jan. 5, ‘96)

546. “Mojesky As Cameel”

Read in his “Second Book Of Verse”, the poem writ by Fiel’;

Then hie yourself some night to see “Mojesky in Cameel”.

“Thrie-Fingered Hoover”’s dead an’ gone, an’ won’t disturb the show,

The way he did in Denver, when he pulverized “Armo”.

Pub. in B. Courier, (Jan. 5, ‘96)

Baker, History of Colorado, Vol. II, 1927

http://www.mocavo.com/History-of-Colorado-Volume-3-2/492676/377

Modjesky as Cameel

by Eugene Field (1850-1895)

Afore we went to Denver we had heerd the Tabor Grand,
Allowed by critics ez the finest opry in the land;
And, roundin' up at Denver in the fall of '81,
Well heeled in p'int uv looker 'nd a-pinin' for some fun,
We told Bill Bush that we wuz fixed quite comf'table for wealth,
And had n't struck that altitood entirely for our health.
You see we knew Bill Bush at Central City years ago;
(An' a whiter man than that same Bill you could not wish to know!)
Bill run the Grand for Tabor, 'nd he gin us two a deal
Ez how we really otter see Modjesky ez Cameel.

Three-Fingered Hoover stated that he'd great deal ruther go
To call on Charley Simpson than frequent a' opry show.
"The queen uv tragedy," sez he, "is wot I 've never seen,
And I reckon there is more for me in some other kind uv queen."
"Git out!" sez Bill, disgusted-like, "and can't you never find
A pleasure in the things uv life wich ellervates the mind?
You 've set around in Casey's restauraw a year or more,
An' heerd ol' Vere de Blaw perform shef doovers by the score,
Only to come down here among us tong an' say you feel
You'd ruther take in faro than a' opry like 'Cameel'!"

But it seems it wur n't no opry, but a sort uv foreign play,
With a heap uv talk an' dressin' that wuz both dekollytay.
A young chap sparks a gal, who 's caught a dook that's old an' wealthy,---
She has a cold 'nd faintin' fits, and is gin'rally onhealthy.
She says she has a record; but the young chap does n't mind,
And it looks ez if the feller wuz a proper likely kind
Until his old man sneaks around 'nd makes a dirty break,
And the young one plays the sucker 'nd gives the girl the shake.
"Armo! Armo!" she hollers; but he flings her on the floor,
And says he ain'ter goin' to have no truck with her no more.

At that Three-Fingered Hoover says, "I 'll chip into this game,
And see if Red Hoss Mountain cannot reconstruct the same.
I won't set by an' see the feelin's uv a lady hurt,---
Gol durn a critter, anyhow, that does a woman dirt!"
He riz up like a giant in that little painted pen,
And stepped upon the platform with the women-folks 'nd men;
Across the trough of gaslights he bounded like a deer,
An' grabbed Armo an' hove him through the landscape in the rear;
And then we seen him shed his hat an' reverently kneel,
An' put his strong arms tenderly around the gal Cameel.

A-standin' in his stockin' feet, his height wuz siz foot three,

And a huskier man than Hoover wuz you could not hope to see.
He downed Lafe Dawson wrasslin'; and one night I seen him lick
Three Cornish miners that come into camp from Roarin' Crick
To clean out Casey's restauraw an' do the town, they said.
He could whip his weight in wildcats, an' paint whole townships red,
But good to helpless folks and weak,---a brave and manly heart
A cyclone could n't phase, but any child could rend apart;
Jest like the mountain pine, wich dares the storm that howls along,
But rocks the winds uv summer-time, an' sings a soothin' song.

"Cameel," sez he, "your record is ag'in you, I 'll allow,
But, bein' you 're a woman, you'll git justice anyhow;
So, if you say you 're sorry, and intend to travel straight,---
Why, never mind that other chap with which you meant to mate,---
I 'll marry you myself, and take you back to-morrow night
To the camp on Red Hoss Mountain, where the boys 'll treat you white,
Where Casey runs a tabble dote, and folks are brave 'nd true,
Where there ain't no ancient history to bother me or you,
Where there ain't no law but honesty, no evidence but facts,
Where between the verdick and the rope there ain't no onter acts."

I wuz mighty proud of Hoover; but the folks began to shout
That the feller was intrudin', and would some one put him out.
"Well, no; I reckon not," says I, or words to that effect,
Ez I perduced a' argument I thought they might respect,---
A long an' harnsome weepon I 'd pre-empted when I come
Out West (its cartridges wuz big an' juicy ez a plum),
Wich, when persented properly, wuz very apt to sway
The popular opinion in a most persuasive way.
"Well, no; I reckon not," says I; but I did n't say no more,
Observin' that there wuz a gin'ral movement towards the door.

First Dr. Lemen he allowed that he had got to go
And see a patient he jest heerd wuz lyin' very low;
An' Charlie Toll riz up an' said he guessed he 'd jine the Dock,
An' go to see a client wich wuz waitin' round the block;
John Arkins reckollected he had interviews to write,
And previous engagements hurried Cooper from our sight;
Cal Cole went out to buy a hoss, Fred Skiff and Belford too;
And Stapleton remembered he had heaps uv work to do.
Somehow or other every one wuz full uv business then;
Leastwise, they all vamoosed, and did n't bother us again.

I reckollect that Willard Morse an' Bush come runnin' in,
A-hollerin', "Oh, wot two idiots you durned fools have been!"
I reckollect that they allowed we 'd made a big mistake,---
They otter knowed us tenderfoots wuz sure to make a break!
An', while Modjesky stated we wuz somewhat off our base,
I half opined she liked it, by the look upon her face.
I reckollect that Hoover regretted he done wrong
In throwin' that there actor through a vista ten miles long.
I reckollect we all shuck hands, and ordered vin frappay,---
I never shall forget the head I had on me next day!

I haven't seen Modjesky since; I 'm hopin' to again.
She 's goin' to show in Denver soon; I 'll go to see her then.
An' may be I shall speak to her, wich if I do 't will be
About the old friend restin' by the mighty Western sea,---
A simple man, perhaps, but good ez gold and true ez steel;
He could whip his weight in wildcats, and you never heerd him squeal;
Good to the helpless an' the weak; a brave an' manly heart
A cyclone couldn't phase, but any child could rend apart;
So like the mountain pine, that dares the storm wich sweeps along,
But rocks the winds uv summer-time, an' sings a soothin' song.

547. Hard Lines

The actor cried, “Ah! Woe is me,

I have no chance to shirk;

For when I work, I play, you see,

And when I play I work.”

R. by Truth, Puck, Judge, World. B. Courier (Mar. 1, ‘96)

548. Tho’ Jack loved Gill it has been proved

She ne’er became his bride;

Instead of taking little Gill,

He took a quart and died.

R. by Puck, Truth, Judge, World. B. Courier (Mar. 15, ‘96)

549. Not Fresh Laid Applause

He’d nothing but his violin,

I’d nothing but my horn;

But we got eggs enough that night,

To furnish Easter morn.

Pub. in B. Courier

550. Great Now

These “Greater Boston Advocates”,

Jest simply underrate her;

I tell yew, Boston is so great,

She can’t be any greater.

Pub. B. Courier

551. Ball Club – Billy Club

“Three strikes and out,”

Is the baseball man’s say;

“One strike and in,”

Is the policeman’s way.

Pub. in B. Courier

552. Better Than Those You Buy

St. Valentine looks upon the scene,

And maidens’ cheeks now glow and shine;

And soon each pretty girl, I ween,

Will be somebody’s valentine.

B. Courier

553, Out In Lonelyville

I was out in the suburbs the other day,

‘Twas muddy, and slushy and wet;

I stopped for to talk,

And got stuck in the walk,

And I’m stuck here yet.

B. Courier

554. To Truth

Wouldn’t this sort of an epitaph

Upon your feelings jar?

“Here lies John Longhair, poet, killed

By a Broadway cable car.”

B. Courier, Truth

Nay, nay, dear Truth, this is the one

Which makes us short of breath;

Here lies John Longhair, poet, died,

Because he starved to death.

B. Courier

555. Slighted The Papers

There was a man in our town,

He wasn’t wise or fit;

His business kept going down,

An advertiser? Nit.

B. Courier, (Feb. 16, ‘96)

556. Rise And Fall On The Stage

The curtain rose, the hero fell,

The ups and downs were thick;

The curtain fell, the hero rose,

From tons of paper brick.

B. Courier, (Feb. 16, ‘96)

557. The Reason

What makes our Mary love lamb so,

The eager people cry;

Why Mary lives in Chi-ca-go,

Where pork and souse is very low

And lamb extremely high.

B. Courier, (Feb. 23, ‘96)

558. Fricasseed Chicken

Higglety pigglety, my old hen,

She hasn’t laid an egg since when;

And now she’s old and tough and gaunt,

I’ll sell her to a restaurant.

R. by Puck, Truth,

559. My Last Cigar

O, take back the weed that thou givest,

Let it be as I never had smoked; I ~~met~~

If it be but a joke that thou cravest,

I much prefer not to be joked.

R. by Puck, Truth, Life, N.Y. Journal. B. Courier, (Mar. 22, ‘96)

560. How A Poet Was Used

He sent a poem on “The Snow”,

It found a warm objection;

He sent another, full of fire,

Which got a cold reception.

B. Courier, (Feb. 23, ‘96)

561. Advice On The Quiet

Keep still, and the world is with you,

Chirp, and you’re left alone;

Don’t talk to the motor man,

He has troubles enough of his own.

B. Courier, (Feb. 23, ‘96)

562. In The Rear

Little boy horn come blow your blue,

The corn’s in the meadow, the sheep’s there too;

Where’s little boy sheep who looks after the blue,

He’s after them now, and a long way, too.

B. Courier, (Feb. 23, ‘96)

563. For The Time Being

Pretty maiden,

Penitent;

Heavy laden,

(During Lent).

R. by Puck, World, Journal, Judge,

564. A Dance Somewhere

O, Lenten maiden, shy and sweet,

Stilled are thy lightly tripping feet;

And tho’ thou now woulds’t hardly smile,

Thine eyes are dancing all the while.

R. by Puck, Truth, World, Journal, Judge,

565. Maud Up To Date

Maud Muller on a summer’s day,

No longer rakes the meadow hay;

While her old pa is raking in,

She slams down the piano cover, grabs her bran’ new byke, which took the price of her pa’s three best Jersey cows, the year before, and with the gay

Young city boarder takes a spin.

B. Courier, (Mar. 22, ‘96)

566. Still Unsettled

St. Patrick was a gentleman,

We knew this long ago;

But whether he was French, Dutch, Swede,

Irish, Pole, Italian, Jew or Turk,

We’d really like to know.

B. Courier, (Mar. 22, ‘96)

567. A Brush With The Comb

“We meet to part right here at home,

We meet to part my sweet;”

The brush remarked unto the comb,

“And then we part to meet.”

R. by Puck, Judge, Truth, Ac. by Free Press.

April 19, ‘96

568. A T’en Strike, Nit

He came up the street and past me brushed,

With a hurried and nervous tread;

And he came so near his breath I could hear,

But “you didn’t quite touch me,” I said.

R. by Truth, Puck, Ac. by Free Press.

569. Alas And Alack

He sent a poem to the press,

The butcher sent it back;

“Alas!” he cried in great distress,

“Of brains he has a lack!”

R. by Truth, Puck, Ac. by Free Press.

570. A Failure After All

The Cathode Ray is very good,

And helps out matters some;

But cannot do the thing it should –

Look through the years to come.

R. by Puck, Truth, Judge, World, Ac. by F. Press. Pub. July 19 (16), 1896.

San Francisco Call, Volume 80, Number 53, 23 July 1896

571. To Some Boy’s Dad

You’d better get the boy a byke,

If you any peace would know;

He’s apt to have wheels in his head,

Till he gets them down below.

R. by Puck, Truth, Judge, World, F. Press, Up To Date, B.K.M., Journal. C. Press, Apr. 24, ‘97

572. A Change Of Thrill

She starts, she moves, she seems to feel

The thrill of life within her wheel;

She blacks, she stops, she meets the stones,

The thrill of life is in her bones.

R. by Puck, Truth, B.K.M., World, Acpt. by Up To Date, Pub. Feb. 27, ‘97

573. What Indeed?

When lovely woman spies a trolley,

And finds too late she should have crossed,

What act can save her from the folly

Of keeping on and getting tossed?

R. by Truth, Puck, Up To Date, Journal, Judge. Conn Valley Adv.

574. A Prohibitionist

There is a young fellow in Meign,

Who gives me somewhat of a peign;

They say it is so,

That the fool doesn’t know,

Enough to come in from the reign.

R. by World, Truth, Life, Up To Date, Journal, Judge, Types. Joker for Nov., Camb. Press, Apr. 24, ‘97

575. “What’s In A Name?”

A rose by any other name

Would without doubt, be just as sweet;

A thorn by any other name

Would just as quickly prick your feet.

R. by Puck, Truth, Acpt. by Up To Date, Pub. Feb. 27, ‘97

576. Prose Vs. Poetry

Don’t waste your time in writing jokes,

Do quatrains and be thrifty;

Prose gets but twenty five per line,

The rhymes getteth fifty.

R. by World, Puck, Journal, Up To Date. Camb. Press, Apr. 4, ‘97

577. Of ups and downs our lives are full,

How can a man feel gay?

With mercury a-going down

And coal the other way.

Camb. Press, Nov. 21, ‘96

578. The cheery garb of Nature now

King Winter’s breath is dooming;

But while the woods are bleak and bare,

The Christmas trees are blooming.

Camb. Press, Dec. 19, ‘96

579. An After Holiday Confession

I didn’t kiss her beneath the holly,

As some fellows would, I suppose;

I did much better than all such folly,

I kissed her beneath the nose.

R. by Journal, Pub. in the Little Joker.

580. A Secret Laid Bare

A secret I have just found out,

I’ll tell you if you will not tell;

The trees which bear in summertime,

Will bare in winter just as well.

Acpt. by N.Y. Journal, Jan. 24, ‘97

581. Truth About Bluebeard

“Time’s up!” shouted Bluebeard,

Drawing his sword;

(Had to hock it most likely,

To pay for his board).

R. by Journal, Puck, Judge, Life, Truth, World, Pub. in Joker for Nov.

582. A Marvelous Feat

Long will I sing his praises loud,

And call the man a hummer;

Who can describe the magic change,

Of winter girl to summer.

R. by Journal, Puck, Judge, Life, Truth, World. Little Joker

583. Humpty And The Wheel

Humpty Dumpty sat on a bike,

Humpty Dumpty resembled a dike;

And all the kings horses and all the king’s men,

Couldn’t straighten Humpty’s back bone again.

R. by Puck, Judge, Life, Truth, World, Pub. in C. Advertiser.

Feb. 18. ‘97

584. Mary’s Scant Meal

Mary had a little lamb,

But one thing sadly cut her;

She had no bread, so couldn’t dine,

Altho’ she had the butter,

R. by Puck, Truth, Judge, Life, Journal, World. Mercury.

585. A Winter Snap

We romp along the glistening snow,

Defying frosty weather;

I strap her skates, then off we go,

A-cutting ice together.

R. by Puck, Truth, Judge, Life, Journal, World. C. Press

586. One Or The Other

The man who sits him down to read,

The modern Sunday paper through;

Has either got a job on hand,

Or else he doesn’t have much to do.

R. by Puck, Ac. by Truth, Pub. Ap. 15, ’97, #522

587. This Is Unfair

It is not fair to favor some

With others in the lurch;

To drive the theatre hat from sight,

And leave with all its might and height,

The Sunday hat in church.

R. by Puck, Truth, Life, Judge, Journal, World. Mercury.

588. A Hint Of Spring

Spring poems now are in the bud,

(The poet spreads his wings)

They soon will bloom – I hear a thud –

The blooming things.

R. by Puck, Truth, Life, Judge, Journal, World. Little Joker.

589. A Snap

I lay on the bridge at midnight,

And then, with a sudden spring

I parted, and my life was no more,

For I was a fiddle spring.

R. by Puck, Truth, Judge, Life, Journal, World,

590. A Skating Thought

It’s nice to think the glistening ice,

O’er which we gayly fly,

May freeze the cream which we will spoon

Sometime in next July.

R. by Puck, Truth, Judge, Life, Journal, World. Little Joker

591. Snap Shots

Snap shots are getting to be the “go”,

They’re owned by both maiden and chap;

They possibly get a few pictures to show,

But the dealer gets most of the “snap”.

R. by Truth, Puck, Life, Journal. Camb. Press, (Aug. 14, 1897)

592. When Greek Meets Greek

Off to the shore she soon will go,

Once more to lead the season’s whirl;

Once more I buy a “Well filled” ring,

To fit some trusting summer girl.

R. by Puck, Truth, World, Journal. Joker for Feb.

593. Something Off

The Ice is off the water,

The law is off the brook;

The man is off to catch him,

But the trout is off the hook.

R. by Puck, Truth, World, Journal. Joker for Feb.

594. Where The Rub Comes

There are flying machines and flying machines,

And aerial boats by the score;

But the sorest point for the air marines,

Is that each one refuses to soar.

A. by World, c. June ‘97

595. Modern Soldiery

The man who fights and runs away

May live to fight another day;

And he who stays, without a doubt,

Must envy him who scooteth out.

R. by Truth, Puck, Journal, World, Y. Book. Conn. Valley Adv.

596. The Millennium

When man rides a wheel

His great life trouble ceases;

For in his bicycle pants

He doesn’t have to keep creases.

R. by Truth, Puck, World, Journal, Y. Book, Judge

597. William Outdone

There is a time of tide

In the affairs of men;

Which, if you go up on the flood,

Will bring you down again.

R. by Truth, Puck, World, Journal, Y. Book. Little Joker

598. Brother Bill’s Job

My brother Bill’s job in the old paper mill

Is a job one cannot be pleased at;

But hold the position I’m certain he will,

For the salary’s not to be sneezed at.

R. by Truth, Puck, Journal, World, Y. Book, Judge. Little Joker

599. The Gold Cure

He had the yellow fever bad,

And scarce could be endured;

He took some Klondike medicine,

And now he’s wholly cured.

R. by Puck, Journal, World, Y. Book, Judge. Pub. Conn. Val. Ad.

Aug. ‘97

(skips #600)

601. Non Wettable

She donned her pretty bathing suit,

Along the sunny beach to roam;

A raindrop fell, with parasol

Aloft she quickly sped for home.

Camb. Press, c. June ’97 or Aug. 25, ’95 (with ‘One And Another’, #82½)

602. The Headstrong Bicycle Girl

She starts, she moves, she seems to feel

That she can scorch on any wheel.

She flies, she swerves, a backward glance, –

A home run in the ambulance.

R. by World. Camb. Press

603. Oh Lucky Woman

A man stood on the railroad track!!

His widow got a lump;

And then with all that cash she got

A better looking chump.

R. by World, Journal,

604. ~~Melancholy Days~~

~~The summer season’s waning,~~

~~The city’s in a whirl;~~

~~At last it has stopped raining,~~

~~Likewise the summer girl.~~

R. by World

605. Oh, This Weather

Gladys has left the seashore bare,

Her disappointment is acute;

It rained so plagued much down there,

She couldn’t wear her bathing suit.

R. by World. Little Joker for Sept.

606. No Place For “Silver Bill”

That Bryan likes riches most all of us know,

And that he ne’er was afraid of a “cold”;

But the Klondike distemper will ne’er lay him low,

For it savors too strongly of gold.

R. by World, Journal. Cambridge Press

William Jennings Bryan (March 19, 1860 – July 26, 1925) was a dominant force in the populist wing of the Democratic Party, standing three times as the Party's candidate for President of the United States (1896, 1900 and 1908). He served two terms as a member of the United States House of Representatives from Nebraska and was United States Secretary of State under President Woodrow Wilson (1913–1915), resigning because of his pacifist position on World War I. Bryan was a devout Presbyterian, a strong advocate of popular democracy, and an enemy of the banks and their gold standard. He demanded "Free Silver" because it reduced power attributed to money and put more money in the hands of the people. He was a peace advocate, supported Prohibition, and an opponent of Darwinism on religious and humanitarian grounds. With his deep, commanding voice and wide travels, he was one of the best-known orators and lecturers of the era. Because of his faith in the wisdom of the common people, he was called "The Great Commoner."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Jennings_Bryan

607. ~~A Maxim Reversed~~

~~It will be somewhat different~~ –

~~With Peary and his wife~~

~~Up in the Arctic regions, since~~

~~While there is Hope there’s life.~~

R. by Journal, World

Admiral Peary’s ship ‘Hope’

608. On The Bum

When lovely maiden waits for Cholly,

And finds too late he doesn’t come;

She soon concludes it’s certain folly,

To stand there waiting on the bum.

R. by Journal, World. Little Joker

From the 1897 Herbert operetta, ‘The Idol’s Eye’. It is a bit of a take-off on Harry B. [lyrics], and Victor [music] Herbert’s grandfather’s Irish Music Hall songs and is for a comic baritone. It was originally sung by Frank Daniels, the comedian and actor.

http://vhsource.com/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=189&category_id=35&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=68

https://books.google.com/books?id=VTs3AAAAIAAJ&pg=PA133&lpg=PA133&dq=%22the+idol%27s+eye%22+lyric&source=bl&ots=IMGSDqlhx6&sig=Aoey3mR83aljE0o5fp7j3rbXBgk&hl=en&sa=X&ei=reoKVfW_D8f4gwTjgITIDA&ved=0CEUQ6AEwCA#v=onepage&q=%22the%20idol's%20eye%22%20lyric&f=false

609. Surely Born

“Poets are born and not made,” said he,

And his bosom did expand;

“And I’ll tell you the reason,” responded she,

“Because there is no demand.”

R. by Journal, World. Little Joker

610. The only way to keep resolves

Is, write them into shape

Then lock them in a mighty vault

So they cannot escape.

R. by Journal, World, Types. Joker for Nov.

611. The man who never ashed his walk

Need not approach St. Peter;

There is a place for him below,

Down in the Devil’s heater.

Little Joker

612. No Dog

No dog so low, no dog so mean,

No dog so prime to lag;

No dog so sad as that poor dog

Who has no tail to wag.

Little Joker

613. She tore her bloomers on a nail,

And grew much disconcerted;

She had no pins, so going home,

The thoroughfare she skirted.

Little Joker

614. The bird that gets the worm

Is the bird that early rises;

And the man who gets the trade

Is the man who advertises.

R. by Puck, Truth. Little Joker for Sept. (’97)

615. Cruel Fate

How sad for our poets but how nice for the men

Of our army and navy sublime;

That not one of the heroes that pose now and then

Have a name that is easy to rhyme.

A. by World, Pub. June 26, 1898

616. ~~For His Namesake~~

~~I would write a poem on Hobson~~

~~But can find no rhyme but Dobson;~~

~~So rather than pursue it,~~

~~I’ll let Austin Dobson do it.~~

R. by World, Truth, Puck, Journal.

Henry Austin Dobson (18 January 1840 – 2 September 1921), commonly Austin Dobson, was an English poet and essayist.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Austin_Dobson

Richmond Pearson Hobson (August 17, 1870 – March 16, 1937) was a United States Navy Rear Admiral who served from 1907-1915 as a U.S. Representative from Alabama. A veteran of the Spanish-American War, he received the Medal of Honor years later for his part in that conflict.

In the early days of Spanish-American War, he was with Admiral William T. Sampson in New York, and arrived off Santiago on June 1, 1898. In order to bottle up the Spanish squadron of Admiral Pascual Cervera y Topete, Hobson took temporary command of the collier Merrimac, which he would attempt to sink as an obstruction in the channel. The attempt was made early June 3, under heavy Spanish fire, which disabled the steering gear of the collier. Hobson did sink the Merrimac, but was unable to place her in the shallowest part of the channel. With his crew of six, he was picked up by Admiral Cervera himself and treated quite chivalrously.

Hobson became a hero of the American press while he was a prisoner of war in Cuba. His portrait appeared in hundreds of newspapers with embellished stories of his bravery in volunteering for what was perceived as a suicide mission. A fund was raised to aid his parents in avoiding foreclosure of their mortgage. When Hobson was released during a prisoner exchange on July 6, 1898, hundreds of American troops snapped to attention, then burst into cheers as he passed. He was deluged with speaking invitations when he returned to the United States. After dining with President William McKinley, Hobson traveled west by train en route to San Francisco and the Philippines. Crowds greeted his train at many stations, and his enthusiasm for kissing admiring young women made him a sex symbol of the Victorian age.[1] He became a sort of celebrity during the rise of popular Journalism at the turn of the century and was referred to as "the most kissed man in America."

Hobson authored a book about the events surrounding the sinking of the Merrimac. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richmond_P._Hobson

617. Double Play

This is the funniest war,

That ever I knew;

When the Yanks win a victory

The Spanish do, too.

R. by World, Truth, Puck, Journal. Little Joker

618. Down In The Tropics

The boy stood on the burning deck,

He nearly had a fit;

The deck was tarred and hot as well,

He’d rather stand than sit.

R. by World, Truth, Puck, Journal. Joker

619. What The War Has Brought

The bards now turn their eager pens,

To thoughts of war and its estate;

Meanwhile the saddened summer girl

Sits on the beach disconsolate.

R. by World, Truth, Puck, Journal, Judge. Joker

June 17, ‘98

620. A Domestic Surprise

I kissed and called her “dear”,

And in her soft and hazel eyes

There stole a look of real surprise, –

We’d married been a year.

A. by World, Pub. June 26, 1898

621. War Fancies

I hear the sound of shooting,

The war pot starts to boil;

And Yankee pigs go rooting,

Down there in Cuban soil.

R. by Journal, World. Pub. in Camb. Press

622. ~~“This war with Spain gives me a pain,~~

~~The “figure heads” delay so;”~~

~~Remarks like this,~~

~~You’ll notice ‘tis,~~

~~The stay at homes who say so.~~

R. by Journal, World, Truth

623. An S. Say

Spain, scant, short, sallow, sly,

Sick, sad, slim, slender;

Sneak, snivel, selfish, sore,

Skedaddle, sink, surrender.

R. by Journal, A. by World, Pub. July 10, 1898

624. A Young Astronomer

That babies like astronomy

I’m almost free to say;

At least the one I daily see,

Likes well the milky way.

R. by Puck, Truth, World, Judge, Life. Little Joker for Sept. (’98)

625. ~~“War Extra!” you think without it,~~

~~For news you’re lost;~~

~~All that is extra about it~~

~~Is the cost.~~

R. by Puck, Truth, Journal

626. ~~Boots And Saddles~~

~~If Teddy dislikes to have us~~

~~Call them “Rough Riders”;~~

~~Wouldn’t he raise a big fuss~~

~~If we call them “Tough Riders”?~~

R. by Puck, Truth, Journal

627. A Pastoral

Standing with reluctant feet

Where the rod and trousers meet.

This is not a maid and pool,

It’s a naughty boy at school.

R. by Puck, Truth, World, Judge

628. One More

That little lamb that Mary had

Is larger now and full of vim;

And would that he could butt to death

Each funny man who writes of him.

R. by Puck, Ac. by World, Pub. Dec. 11, ‘98

629. The Way We Have

“Our lives are what we make of them,” ‘tis said,

Then I’m sorry for most lives, I swear;

For we make them not as good as we can,

But fully bad as we dare.

R. by Puck, World, Little Joker for Dec. ‘98

630. Hobsomania

A thousand jays have poetized

That silly Hobson kiss;

A simple freakish act not worth

A verse the length of this.

R. by Puck, World, Little Joker for Dec. (’98)

see: #616

631. “A word to the wise is sufficient,”

They taught me at home and at school;

“A word to the wise is sufficient,”

Doesn’t follow a dummy’s a fool.

R. by Puck, World, Journal, Little Joker

632. Former Is Safer

When riding one wheel

You’re between two tires;

When courting two girls

You’re between two fires.

R. by Puck, World, Little Joker

633. Change Of Diet

Now Germany, while Yankee land

Her future pathway shapes;

We’ll leave off eating sauerkraut,

And eat instead some grapes.

R. by Puck, World, Journal, Little Joker

634. Boy Blue On A Furlough

Little Boy Blue, come blow your tin;

You’ve got your money now blow it in.

Where’s Little Boy Blue who went to shoot?

He’s in the city now on a toot.

R. by Puck, World, Journal, Little Joker

635. Tho’ Christmas comes but once a year,

Too soon it overtakes me;

For ere my old bills disappear,

It comes along and breaks me.

R. by Truth, World, Judge, Journal, Little Joker, ? ‘98

636. Altho’ a poor young man is he,

He knows what he’s about;

At Christmas time he likes to see

Her stockings well filled out.

R. by Truth, World, Journal, Joker

637. They hain’t no “saddest days uv fall”,

Ez gloomy poets say;

It’s summer time for good an’ all,

Ef yew jes’ feel that way.

Pub. Little Joker for Oct. ‘98

638. A Little Pslam

“Lives of great men all remind us”

We have got to keep a-humming;

And burn the bridges all behind us,

So the others can’t keep coming.

R. by Puck, Truth, World, Little Joker

639. A Policeman’s Prayer

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray my pal close watch to keep;

If I should die before I wake,

Say “died on duty” fer Hiven’s sake!

R. by Puck, Truth, World, Little Joker

640. An Up-To-Date Lover

My love is like a red, red rose

Upon a dollar hat;

For every time it rains or snows,

Away the pretty color goes,

My love is just like that.

R. by Puck, Truth, World, Puck,

641. Thanksgiving’s past, the funny man

Puts with a silent tear;

Rejected turkey jokes away

Until another year.

Pub. in Little Joker for Nov. (’98)

642. A Sermon On Expansion

Expand, expend, expel, expunge,

Expect, expense;

Exploit, expose, explode, expire,

Experience!

R. by Life, Puck, World, Journal, Judge, Pub. in B. Post

643. Comforting

The man who fights and runs away

May live to fight another day;

But he who on the field is slain,

Won’t have to be kilt o’er again.

644. A Modern Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wheel,

Humpty Dumpty looked like an eel;

All the Kings horses and all the Kings men

Couldn’t straighten Humpty’s backbone again.

Pub. N.E. Sportsman, May ‘99

645. Wanted

The multiplying wheel is good,

But fishing outfits fail;

Until some genius brings along

A multiplying scale.

Pub. in New England Sportsman

646. What’s In A Name?

The L.A.W. Bulletin and Good Roads

Is a title of a lengthy sort;

And it might save time, to some extent,

Were it called Bully-Roads for short.

Pub. L.A.W. Bulletin, May 26, ‘99

The League of American Bicyclists (LAB) is a non-profit membership organization which promotes cycling for fun, fitness and transportation through advocacy and education.

Founded in Newport, Rhode Island, on May 30, 1880, as the League of American Wheelmen by Kirk Munroe and Charles Pratt, it soon became the leading national membership organization for cyclists in the United States. The League was also the governing body for amateur bicycle racing in the U.S. during the late 19th century. Membership peaked at 103,000 in 1898.

The League was a prominent advocacy group for the improvement of roads and highways in the United States long before the advent of the automobile. The Good Roads Movement in the late 19th century was founded and led by the League, which began publishing Good Roads magazine in 1892. In the mid-1890s, bicycling became accessible to the population at large with the advent of the mass-produced, chain-driven safety bicycle. A huge boom in bicycle sales occurred, then collapsed as the market became saturated. Bicycle manufacturers were no longer able to support the League financially, and the interest of its members, largely well-to-do hobbyists, turned elsewhere.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/League_of_American_Bicyclists

647. Boys – “Look before you leap,”

Often ‘tis said;

Girls – “Look before you sleep,”

Under the bed.

Joker for May, ‘99

648. Man proposes,

God disposes;

Woman poses,

Holy Moses!

Joker for April, ‘99

649. How doth the little country boy

Improve each shining minute?

By hanging round the brook all day

And catching something in it.

N.E. Sportsman

650. Sorry She Spoke

You see I hadn’t been lately shaved,

There were whiskers upon my mug;

And when I kissed her, “get out,” she said,

“O, I thought ‘twas a kissing bug.”

R. by Judge, Joker for July (’99)

651. It may be Jonah easily

Was swallowed by a whale;

‘Twould be as easy as for me

To swallow such a tale.

R. by Judge

652. Little drops of water,

Little mites of trout,

Bring in lots of trouble,

And lots of money out.

Pub. in Jan. N. Sportsman

653. Beware

Pray do not laugh at everything

You hear the baby say;

He’ll think he is a humorist,

At some sad future day.

R. by Puck, Life, World, Types, Ac. by Brooklyn Life, Pub. June 1900

654. Tables Turned On Tom Gobbler

All summer long he gobbled corn

Until he groaned and wobbled;

And now it is no more than fair

The Gobbler would be gobbled.

R. by Puck, Life, World, Joker for Sept. ‘99

655. Some of our magazine editors

Are the swiftest fellows living;

For they got their Christmas numbers out

Three weeks before Thanksgiving.

R. by World, Journal, Joker for Oct. ‘99

Note: Little Joker was self-published.

656. Break O Break!

The summer girl is coming home,

Already she has started.

Her father broken in his purse,

Her lover broken hearted.

Daughter Irene lying on the beach, 1918

Who Was Joe Cone?

Book of Quatrains - Vol. I - 3/1/91 to 1/1/08 Part Two (361-656)

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