Said President MacConnachie to T… “We ought to have a piper for our… Yon squakin’ saxophone gives me th… I’m sick of jazz, I want to hear… “Alas! it’s true,” said Tam MacC…

Where once with lads I scoffed my… The landlord’s lass I’ve wed. Now I am lord and master here;— Thank God! the old man’s dead. I stand behind a blooming bar

My poem may be yours indeed In melody and tone, If in its rhythm you can read A music of your own; If in its pale woof you can weave

It was foretold by sybils three that in an air crash he would die. “I’ll fool their prophesy,” said h… “You won’t get me to go on high. Howe’re the need for haste and spe…

I never kill a fly because I think that what we have of laws To regulate and civilize Our daily life —we owe to flies. Apropos, I’ll tell you of Choo, t…

One pearly day in early May I wal… And saw, say half a mile away, a m… A dog was cowering to his will as… Upon a dozen ducks so still they s… When like a streak the dog dashed…

Blind Peter Piper used to play All up and down the city; I’d often meet him on my way, And throw a coin for pity. But all amid his sparkling tones

I’d rather be the Jester than the… I’d rather jangle cap and bells th… I’d rather make his royal ribs wit… Than see him sitting in the suds a… I’d rather be the Court buffoon t…

Upon his way to rob a Bank He paused to watch a fire; Though crowds were pressing rank o… He pushed a passage nigher; Then sudden heard, piercing and wi…

My only medals are the scars I’ve won in weary, peacetime wars, A—fighting for my little brood, To win them shelter, shoon and foo… But most of all to give them faith

Folk ask if I’m alive, Most think I’m not; Yet gaily I contrive To till my plot. The world its way can go,

“Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither’… It fair maks me hamesick,” says P… “And whit did she send ye?” says… As he cockit his rifle and bleezed… “A haggis! A Haggis!” says Priva…

They thought I’d be a champion; They boasted loud of me. A dozen victories I’d won, The Press was proud of me. I saw myself with glory crowned,

I like to look at fishermen And oftentimes I wish One would be lucky now and then And catch a little fish. I watch them statuesquely stand,

If we could roll back History A century, let’s say, And start from there, I’m sure th… Would find things as to—day: In all creation’s cosmic range