"A little nonsense now and then

Is relished by the wisest men."

"There was a little girl

And she had a little curl

Which hung way down on her forehead;

And when she was good,

She was very good indeed,

But when she was bad, she was horrid."

WHY THE MOLE IS BLIND.

In days gone by, when cows could fly

And goblins rode on bears;

When fairies danced upon the green

And giants moped in lairs,

There lived alone upon a shelf

A tinsie, winsie little elf.

Just when the stars came out at night

And moonbeams filled the earth with light,

Down from his perch this little elf

Would jump and wander by himself.

He wore a pair of little wings

Tied in their place by golden strings.

One day he took a kind of notion

To take a trip upon the ocean.

He combed his hair and washed his face

And put his little wings in place,

Then from his shelf he softly stole

And went to see his friend the mole

Who gave to him a pea-green boat

And guaranteed that it would float.

A funny thing about this boat

'Twas patterned from a ten-pound note.

The little elf was greatly pleased

And laughed until he sneezed and sneezed;

He launched his boat upon the sea

And kicked his little heels in glee.

The mole looked on in glad surprise

(For in those days all moles had eyes.)

He shouted out a loud farewell

As the little row-boat rose and fell.

The elf picked up a golden oar

And soon lost sight of mole and shore.

The elf rowed out for quite a way

And in the waves did sport and play,

Until at length the sun sank low

NOW THERE'S A COON IN THE MOON.

There was once an eccentric old coon,

Who ate dynamite with a spoon,

But when he got loaded

The powder exploded—

And now there's a coon in the moon.

THE COUNTY FAIR.

Oh, let's go out to the county fair

And breathe the balmy country air,

And whittle a stick and look at the hosses,

Discuss the farmer's profit and losses.

We'll take a look at the country stock

And drink some milk from a dairy crock;

Look at the pigs and admire the chickens,

And try to forget it's hot as the dickens.

Forget there are any political rings

Just think of the butter and eggs and things;

So wash off the buggy and hitch up the mare,

And we'll all go out to the county fair.

O'DOWD OF THE JEFFERSON CLUB.

A maddened horse comes down the street,

With waving mane and flying feet.

The crowd scatters in every direction;

It looks like a fight at a city election.

A big policeman waves his hands,

And the air is full of vague commands,

While across the street a retail grocer

Shrieks to his child as the horse draws closer

When suddenly out of the mad hubbub,

Steps Jimmie O'Dowd of the Jefferson Club.

Every man there holds his breath—

To stop the horse means sudden death.

But quick as a flash,

O'Dowd makes a dash.

With all his might and the horse's mane,

He brings the old plug to a halt again.

Then every man there doffs his hat

And cries "Well, what do you think of that?"

Never since the days of Nero

Has there been a greater hero.

HALLOWEEN.

A night when witches skim the air,

When spooks and goblins climb the stair;

When bats rush out with muffled wings,

And now and then the door-bell rings;

But just the funniest thing of all

Is 'cause you can't see when they call.

SATURDAY ON THE FARM.

'Tis Saturday morn and all is bright

By nature's own endowing;

The sun is fiercely giving light,

And only me—

Plowing.

Across the river I hear the sound

Of a boatman slowly rowing;

I have no time to fool around,

Especially when I'm—

Hoeing.

And when the dinner hour has come,

And thoughts of work are fleeting,

I only hear the insects hum,

Because I'm busy—

Eating.

At night when all things are at rest,

Safe in Old Morpheus' keeping,

No troubles do my mind infest,

For I am soundly—

Sleeping.

LOVING JOHN.

John went into the garden one day

And found his baby sister at play;

John hit baby with a brick

And laughed because it made her sick.

John is only two and six

And loves to do these funny tricks.

THE CIRCUS.

O, the circus parade! O, the circus parade!

It lays all the politics back in the shade,

And the merchants forget that they've got any trade,

While many remember they've never been paid

As they rushed out to look at the circus parade;

And preachers who used to be terribly staid

Yell just like boys at the circus parade.

Every one's there, both the mistress and maid,

All looking on at the circus parade.

And out at the grounds, when you've seen the parade,

How delicious it is to drink pink lemonade;

And look at the elephant twirling his trunk,

And laugh at the capers cut by the monk;

Watch the old clown who is acting a dunce,

And try hard to see three rings going at once;

Gaze at the ringmaster cracking his whip,

And watch the tight-rope artist skip.

I saw that circus, Yes Sirree!

Saw about enough for three.

LENT.

"Oh lend me five," the young man cried,

"My money all is spent."

The maiden shook her head and sighed,

"I'm sorry but it's Lent."

THE PROCESSIONAL.

(Written in collaboration with R. B. Hamilton.)

When Julius Caesar met his death,

He muttered in his dying breath:

"It is not patriotism now

Prompts you to break your friendship's vow."

Quoth Brutus, as he stabbed again

The greatest of his countrymen:

"You're in this fix

Through politics."

MORAL.

Thus onward as through life we go,

Amid the pomp, and glare, and show,

We oft some proverb misconstrue

And mutter boldly, "'Tis not true."

But in their calm, majestic way,

We hear the tongues of wise men say:

"You go way back

And then sit down."

AT THE TELEPHONE.

Ting-ling—"South, please, 1085;

Why hello, Jim—Oh, Saints alive!

It's south, I told you—hello; no,

I said once that I could not go.

"Say, can you meet me there tonight?

Confound it, Jim, you must be tight.

What are you saying anyhow,

I've got the wrong ear by the sow?

"Not pretty? Why, she's out o'sight,

Oh, shut up; that will be all right.

You can't walk there? Why it ain't far;

We get there on a 'lectric car.

"Well, Great Scott, man, don't talk all day,

But let me know now right away.

Miss B——, Oh, let the old girl wait;

We won't be out so very late.

"You will? All right then—eight o'clock;

Be sure and meet me on the block,

Remember now, don't get it wrong;

All right, old man (Ting-ling), so long."

A HARDSHIP.

I never saw a loaf of bread

Conspicuous in its purity,

But that I sadly shook my head

And left five-cents as surety.

CHRISTMAS TOYS.

Say, I like toys,

Christmas toys.

Remember when we were boys

Long ago?

Then you were a kid

Not a beau.

And on Christmas Day,

Oh, say,

We got up in the dark

And had a jolly lark

Round the fire.

The cold air was shocking

As we peeped in our stocking—

And, way down in the toe,

Now say this is so—

Dad placed a dollar.

Made me holler.

Yes, sirree,

They were good to me.

Remember Jim?

Mean trick I did him.

You know Jim was surly?

Well I got up early

Took his dollar out,

And put a rock

In his sock.

Gee, he was mad,

Went and told dad;

But dad he just laughed

And said:

Might's well be dead

If you couldn't have fun.

Then for spite,

I kept that dollar 'til night.

Funny, seein' these toys

Made me think of us boys.

But now, Gee!

Christmas ain't like it used to be.

THE RUBAIYAT OF A KENTUCKIAN.

Wake for the sun, that scatters into flight,

The poker players who have stayed all night;

Drives husbands home with reeling steps, and then—

Gives to the sleepy "cops" an awful fright.

I sometimes think that never blows so red

The nose, as when the spirits strike the head;

That every step one takes upon the way

Makes him wish strongly he were home in bed.

The moving finger writes, but having "pull",

You think that you can settle things in full,

But when you interview the Police Judge,

You find that you have made an awful bull.

Some nonsense verses underneath the bough,

A little "booze", a time to loaf, and thou—

Beside me howling in the wilderness,

Would be enough for one day anyhow.

THE MEDICINE MAN.

Good people if you have the mumps,

Or ever get down with the dumps;

Or have bad cold or aching pains,

Or ever suffer with chilblains—

Don't seek your doctor for advice,

And pay him some tremendous price,

But buy a drug that's safe and sure—

In fact, get Blank's Consumptive Cure.

ALAS.

He led her out across the sand,

And by her side did sit:

He asked to hold her little hand,

She sweetly answered, "Nit."

THE GLORIOUS FOURTH AND ITS MEMORIES.

Have you ever mused in silence upon a summer's day

And let your thoughts run riot and your feelings have full sway,

As you sprawled full length upon the grass in some secluded dell

And breathed the balmy country air, and smelt the country smell?

Then as you muse,

And gently snooze,

Between thinks

You remember those jinks

When spirits were high

On the Fourth of July.

There was little Willie Browning, the worst of all the boys

Who had a sure-nuff cannon that made all kinds of noise;

And when the cannon wouldn't go he blew into the muzzle,

But what became of

KEEP TRYIN'.

When you're feelin' blue as ink

An' your spirits 'gin to sink,

Don't be weak an' take a drink

But

Keep Tryin'.

There are times when all of us

Get riled up and start a muss,

But there ain't no use to cuss,

Just

Keep Tryin'.

When things seem to go awry,

And the sun deserts your sky,

Don't sit down somewhere and cry,

But

Keep Tryin'.

Everybody honors grit,

Men who never whine a bit—

Men who tell the world, "I'm IT"

And

Keep Tryin'.

Get a hustle on you NOW,

Make a great, big solemn vow

That you'll win out anyhow,

And

Keep Tryin'.

All the world's a battlefield

Where the true man is revealed,

But the ones who never yield

Keep Tryin'.

GENIUS.

There was once a young man quite erratic

Who lived all alone in an attic,

He wrote magazine verse

That made editors curse,

But his friends thought it fine and dramatic.

TALE OF THREE CITIES.

A seedy young man in Savanah

Fell in love with a rich girl named Anna,

But her papa got mad

And swore that "By Gad,

The fellow shall never Havana!"

But the couple eloped to Caracas,

Where the Germans kicked up such a fracas;

And he said to his wife,

"You can bet your sweet life

That papa dear never will track us."

MODERN MAUD MULLER.

Maud Muller on a summer's day,

Raked the meadows, sweet with hay.

Nor was this just a grand-stand play;

Maud got a rake-off, so they say.

NOCTURNE.

A cat duet.

A silhouette.

A high brick wall,

An awful squall.

A moonlit night,

A mortal fight.

A man in bed,

Sticks out his head.

Gee Whiz!

The man has riz.

His arm draws back

A big bootjack—

A loud swish,

Squish!

"What's that?"

A dead cat.

THE SISSY BOY.

Beware the Sissy Boy my child,

Not because he's very wild;

The Sissy Boy is never that,

Although he'll run if you say "Scat!"

The Sissy Boy's infinitesimal,

He is not worth a duodecimal.

If you should take a custard pie

And hit a Sissy in the eye,

He would not go before a jury,

He'd only blush and say "Oh Fury!"

For he is perfumed, sweet and mild,

That's just his kind, my dearest child.

One should never strike a Sissy,

He is too lady-like and prissy.

You do not need to use your fist

But merely slap him on the wrist,

And if this will not make him budge,

Then glare at him and say "Oh Fudge!"

The Sissy sports a pink cravat

And often wears a high silk hat;

His voice is like a turtle dove's

And he always wears the "cutest" gloves.

At playing ping-pong he's inured,

And his finger-nails are manicured.

He uses powder on his face

And his handkerchiefs are trimmed with lace;

He loves to play progressive euchre

And spend his papa's hard-earned lucre.

He wears an air of nonchalance

And always takes in every dance.

Socially, he's quite a pet

And always fashionably in debt.

He hates to be considered slow

And poses as a famous beau.

He loves to cut a swath and dash

When papa dear puts up the cash.

This, my child, is the Sissy Boy

Who acts so womanly and coy.

His head's as soft as new-made butter;

His aim in life is just to flutter;

Yet he goes along with unconcern

And marries a woman with money to burn.

TO GELETT BURGESS.

I never saw a purple cow,

You say you never saw one;

But this I'll tell you anyhow,

I know that I can draw one.

THE LOBSTER.

Lobsters haven't any feet,

But they have lots of claws;

Yet lobster meat is good to eat,

And this is strange, because—

A dog is never good to eat,

And yet a dog has paws,

And so have cats, and so have rats

And so have other kind of brats.

A lobster then, so to speak,

Is, my child, an awful freak;

For if you get him in a stew,

He'll blush quite red and glare at you.

Yet if you eat much lobster salad,

It will make you very pallid.

A PUN FROM THE DEEP.

A funny thing once happened to a German from Berlin,

For once he got too gay and seized a swordfish by the fin,

This made the big fish angry, and he sawed the German's chin.

"Just Tell Them That I Saw You" said the swordfish with a grin.

STYLISH.

There once was an old crocodile

Who lived on the banks of the Nile.

One day, for a meal,

He swallowed a wheel,

And ate for dessert, an automobile.

IF I COULD FLY.

(What the Little Boy Thought.)

If I had wings just like a bird

Do you know what I'd do?

I'd fly way up into the sky

An' holler down at you.

I'd fly along the Milky Way

Feelin' fine and chipper,

An' then I'd drink some buttermilk

Fresh from out the Dipper.

I'd skim along through fleecy clouds,

An' see the great, Big Bear

An' ask him how he liked to live

So high up in the air.

Wouldn't it be dandy

To fly just when you please,

An' go an' ask the Dog-star

If he worried much with fleas?

I'd do all kinds of other things

If I could only fly,

But I am just a little boy

An' so I dassn't try.

A HAND-ME-DOWN.

Said Sue to her suitor:

"You'll get a new suit, or

I'll sue for a suitor to suit."

"Why Sue," said her suitor

Who tried hard to suit her,

"Your suitor is suited to suit."

FAREWELL SNOW.

(After Walt Whitman.)

That light, that white, that weird, uncanny substance we call snow

Is slowly sifting through the bare branches—and ever and anon

My thoughts sift with the drifting snow, and I am full of pale regret.

Yes, full of pale regret and other things—you know what I mean.

And why? Because the snow must go; the time has came to part.

Yes, it cannot wait much longer—like the flakes my thoughts are melting

'Tis here, 'tis there, in fact, 'tis everywhere—the snow I mean.

Like the thick syrup which covers buckwheat cakes it lies.

The man who says he don't regret its passing also lies.

And wilt thou never come again? Yes, thou wilt never come again. Alas!

How well I remember thee! 'Twas but yesterday, methinks.

When a great daub of snow fell from a nearby housetop

And when I ventured—poor foolish mortal that I was—to look,

Caught me fairly in the mouth (an awful swat) and nearly smothered me.

There is another little trick of thine, most lovely snow—

It is but a proof of thine affection to cling around our necks,

But still we swear—we cannot help it, Snow.

Now it is "Skidoo," or "23 for you." Oh, cursed inconstancy of man!

THE SAD TURKEY GOBBLER.

O a fat turkey gobbler once sat on a limb

And he sighed at the wind, and the wind sighed at him.

But the grief of the gobbler one could not diminish,

For it was Thanksgiving and he saw his finish.

So the heart of the gobbler was heavy as lead

And he muttered the words of the poet who said:

"Backward, turn backward, O Time in thy flight,

Make me a boy again, just for to-night!"

SPRIG HAS CUB.

Sprig, Sprig—Oh lovely Sprig!

Oh, hast thou cub to stay?

Add wilt the little birdies sig

Throughout the livelog day?

What bessage dost thou brig to be,

Fair Lady of by dreabs—

Dost whisper of the babblig brook

Ad fishig poles ad streabs?

Those happy days have cub agaid,

The sweetest of the year,

Whed bad cad raise ad appetite

Ad wholesub thirst for beer.

I've often thought id wudder, Sprig,

Of how the lily grows,

But the thig that's botherig be dow

Is how to sprig dew clothes.

Sprig, Sprig—Oh lovely Sprig!

By thoughts are all of you

I saw a robid yesterday—

How strange it seebs—ad dew!

I've got a dreadful cold, Fair Sprig,

Or else I'd sig to thee

Ad air frob Beddelssohd, perhaps,

Or "The Shade of the Old Apple Tree."

THE HOT WEATHER FIEND.

Ah, somewhere in another world

There is a warmer spot,

Where the fire is burning always.

And always it is hot;

And always fiends are shouting,

And always flames are blue,

And always Satan's asking:

"IS IT HOT ENOUGH FOR YOU?"

WHEN THE LID WAS ON.

They were seated there in silence

Each one busy with a frown,

It was midnight in the city,

And the lid was on the town.

They had all been playing poker

'Mid the rattle of the chink,

When a gloom fell o'er the party,

For they couldn't buy a drink,

But a little fellow whispered

As he held a poker hand,

"Can't we get as drunk on water

As we can upon the land?"

Then we kicked the little rascal,

And we spoke without a frown,

And we anchored safe in harbor

When the lid was on the town.

THE DOODLE BUG.

Why that's a doodle bug, my child

Who lives alone, remote and wild.

His domicile's a hole in the ground

And when at home he's easily found.

The only plan allowed by law

Is to lure him forth upon a straw,

For the doodle bug is a misanthrope

And otherwise is sure to elope.

GRIT.

I hate the fellow who sits around

And knocks the livelong day—

Who tells of the work he might have done;

If things had come his way.

But I love the fellow who pushes ahead

And smiles at

THE NEXT MORNING.

What a difference in the morning

When you try to raise your head;

When your eyelids seem so heavy

You could swear they were of lead;

When your tongue is thickly coated

And you have an awful thirst;

When you drink so much cold water

That you feel about to burst;

When you lift your hand towards heaven

And solemnly do say:

"I'm going to 'cut out' drinking

And I'll swear off right to-day."

A WONDERFUL FEAT.

I never walk along the street

Because I haven't any feet;

Nor is this strange when I repeat

That I am but a garden beet.

APRIL FOOL.

'Twas on the f-f-f-first of April D-D-Day,

W-w-w-when Nature s-s-smiled and all w-w-was gay,

And I—w-w-why I was in a w-w-whirl,

'C-c-cause I w-w-was w-w-walking w-w-with my g-g-girl.

We w-w-wandered through a leafless w-w-wood

W-w-where many giant oak-t-t-trees s-s-stood,

And p-p-paused beside a d-d-dark g-g-green pool

And sat d-d-down on a rustic s-s-stool.

T-t-then out I s-s-spoke in accents b-b-bold,

And all m-m-my l-love for her I t-t-told.

She answered w-w-with a sweet, s-s-hy g-g-glance

That pierced m-m-my h-h-heart like C-C-Cupid's l-lance.

I seized her in a t-t-tight embrace,

And s-s-showered k-k-kisses on her f-f-face,

And t-t-told her that I'd g-g-give my l-life

If she would only b-b-be my w-w-wife.

"Please k-k-keep your l-l-life," the m-m-maid replied

"F-f-for I w-w-will gladly b-b-be your b-b-bride,

And y-y-you" she s-s-said, in t-t-tones quite c-c-cool,

"W-w-why you c-c-can b-b-be my April F-F-Fool."

BRUTAL MARY.

Mary had a little lamb,

The lamb was always buttin'

So Mary killed the little lamb

And turned him into mutton.

YOU COULDN'T HARDLY NOTICE IT AT ALL.

There was a girl in our town

Who dearly loved to flirt,

But the home folks never noticed it at all.

The women in the neighborhood

All said she was too pert,

But she never even noticed them at all.

One night a young man came to call

Who was considered slow,

But when he got alone with her,

He turned the lights down low.

He begged her for a little kiss,

She softly murmured "No,"

But you couldn't hardly notice it at all.

THE ALARM CLOCK.

With a clatter and a jangle,

And a wrangle and a screech,

How the old alarm clock wheezes

As it sneezes out of reach!

How you groan and yawn and stretch

In the chilly morning air,

As you pull the blankets tight,

With your head clear out of sight—

How you swear!

A NEW VERSION.

Old Mother Hubbard

She went to the cupboard,

To find a nice bone for her dog.

But when she got there

The cupboard was bare,

And now they are both on the hog.

OH SCISSORS!

I knew a young man so conceited

That a glance at his face made you heated.

One night, playing whist,

He was slapped on the wrist,

Because some one said that he cheated.

HE APED HER.

An impudent Barbary ape

Once tried on a lady's new cape.

As he gave a big grin,

The lady came in,

And—his children are still wearing crepe.

TAKE UP THE HOUSEHOLD BURDEN.

Take up the household burden,

No iron rule of kings,

But make your family understand

That you are running things,

Don't storm around and bluster,

And don't get mad and swear

If in the soup is floating—

A rag and a hank of hair.

Take up the household burden

In patience to abide,

To curse the irate grocer

And make your wife confide

By open speech and simple

And hundred times made plain

How she has sought to profit

In spending all you gain.

Take up the household burden—

The little baby boy,

And walk the floor in anguish

And don't let it annoy.

For when the kid seems sleepy

And you are feeling "sold,"

There comes a cry from baby boy

That makes your blood run cold.

Take up the household burden

And try and be a man,

Just simply grin and bear it

And do the best you can.

Come now and try your manhood

And let the future go,

And listen to your elders—

They've tried it and they know.