Munhall, to save my soul you brave… Although, to save my soul, I can’… ‘Tis naught to you, to me however… Why, bless it! you might save a mi… Yet lose your own; for still the ’…

Death, are you well? I trust you… That’s painful or in any way annoy… No kidney trouble that may carry y… Or heart disease to keep you from… Your meals-and ours. 'T were very…

Ira P. Rankin, you’ve a nasal nam… I’ll sound it through ‘the speakin… And wondering nations, hearing fro… The brazen twang of its resounding… Shall say: ‘These bards are an un…

The apparel does _not_ proclaim th… Polonius lied like a partisan, And Salomon still would a hero se… If (Heaven dispel the impossible… He stood in a shroud on the hangma…

A bear, having spread him a notabl… Invited a famishing fox to the pla… 'I’ve killed me,' quoth he, ‘an ed… As ever distended the girdle of pr… With ’spread of religion,' or ‘inw…

Once Moses (in Scripture the stor… Entreated the favor God’s face to… Compassion divine the petition den… Lest vision be blasted and body be… Yet this much, the Record informs…

O nonsense, parson-tell me not the… And jubilate who follow your dicta… The good are the unhappiest lot al… I know they are from careful obser… If freedom from the terrors of dam…

It is pleasant to think, as I’m w… A-drying along my paper, That a monument fine will surely b… When death has extinguished my tap… From each rhyming scribe of the jo…

LORING PICKERING _(After Pope)_ Here rests a writer, great but not… Born destitute of feeling and of s… No power he but o’er his brain des…

‘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?…

Scene-_A lawyer’s dreadful den. Enter stall-fed citizen. LAWYER.-'Mornin’. How-de-do? CITIZEN.-Sir, same to you. Called as counsel to retain you

So, Estee, you are still alive! I… That you had died and were a bless… I know at least your coffin once w… With Railroad money; and ‘twas sa… Historians that Stanford made a b…

Your various talents, Goldenson,… Respect: you are a poet and can dr… It is a pity that your gifted hand Should ever have been raised again… If you had drawn no pistol, but a…

'The Social World’! O what a wor… Where full-grown men cut capers in… Cotillion, waltz, or what you will… And spin and hop and sprawl about… I wonder if our future Grant or S…

The Widows of Ashur Are loud in their wailing: ‘No longer the ’masher’ Sees Widows of Ashur!' So each is a lasher