Dat Oat-mo-bile yust boomped me He split me nose bay my face oop De las Ay see of dat machine ALMOST BEYOND ENDURANCE BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY I ain't a-goin' to cry no more, no more! I'm got earache, an' ma can't make it quit a-tall; An' puncture it; an' Sis she take An' poke my knife down through the stable-floor An' loozed it,-blame it all! But I ain't a-goin' to cry no more, no more! By permission from "His Pa's Romance," copyright, 1903, the Bobbs-Merrin Com pany, Indianapolis, Ind. An' Aunt Mame wrote she's comin' an' she can't, Folks is come there!-An' I don't care if she is my aunt! An' my eyes stings; an' I'm Ist coughin' all the time, An' hurts me so, an' where my side's so sore, Grampa felt where, an' he Says, "Maybe it's pleurasy!" But I ain't a-goin' to cry no more, no more! An' I clumbed up an' felled off the fence, It sticked in my tin bank, an' I ist tore Oo! I'm so wicked! an' my breath's so hot, But ist run on when I ought to not; Yes, an' my chin An' lips all warpy, an' teeth's so fast, An's a place in my throat I can't swaller past,— An' they all hurt so! An' oh, my oh! I'm a-startin' ag'in,— I'm a-startin' ag'in, but I won't fer shore! I ist ain't a-goin to cry no more, no more! PROOF POSITIVE ANONYMOUS I stept into my room one day And saw some children there at play. I knew that they were "playing school." A pleasure that I never miss. A murmur through the schoolroom ran, A smile pervaded every feature, "He must be a committeeman!" They loud exclaimed. "He kissed the teacher!" THE IRISH PHILOSOPHER ANONYMOUS LADIES AND GINTLEMEN:-I see so many foine-lookin' people sittin' before me, that if you'll excuse me I'll be after takin' a seat myself. You don't know me, I'm thinkin,' or some of yees 'ud be noddin' to me afore this. I'm a walkin' pedestrian, a traveling philosopher; Terry O'Mulligan's me name. I'm from Dublin, where many philosophers before me was raised and bred. Oh, philosophy is a foine study. I don't know anything about it, but it's a foine study. Before I kim over I attinded an important meetin' of philosophers in Dublin, and the discussin' and talkin' you'd hear there about the world 'ud warm the very heart of Socrates or Aristotle himself. Well, there was a great many imminent and learned min there at the meetin,' and I was there, too; and while we was in the very thickest of a heated argument a man comes up to me, and says he, "Do you know what we're talkin' about?" "I do," says I, "but I don't understand yees." "Could you explain the sun's motion round the earth?" says he. "I could," says I; "but I'd not know could you understand me or not." "Well," says he, "we'll see," says he. Sure'n I didn't know anything how to get out of it then; so I piled in, for, says I to meself, never let on to anyone that you don't know anything, but make them believe that you do know all about it. So, says I to him, takin' up me shillalah this way (holding up a very crooked stick horizontally): "We will take that for the straight line of the earth's equator." How's that for gehoggraphy? (To the audience.) Oh, that was straight till the other day I bent it in an argument. "Very good" says he. "Well," says I, "now the sun rises in the east." (Placing the disengaged hand at the eastern end of the stick.) Well, he couldn't deny that; "and," says I, "he-he-he-rises in the mornin'." No more could he deny that. "Very early," says I; "and when he gets up he "Darts his rosy beams Through the mornin' gleams.''' Do you moine the poetry there? (To the audience, with a smile.) "And he keeps on risin' an' risin' till he reaches his meridan." "What's that?" says he. "His dinner-toime," says I. "Sure'n that's my Latin for dinner-time. And when he gets his dinner "He sinks to rest Behind the glorious hills of the west.''' Oh, begorra, there's more poetry. I feel it croppin' out all over me. "There," says I, well satisfied with mesilf, "will that do for ye?" "You haven't got done with him," says he. "Done with him?" says I, kinder mad-like. "What more do you want me to do with him? Didn't I bring him from the east to the west? What more do you want?" "Oh," says he, "you have to have him back agin in the east the next mornin'!" By Saint Patrick, and wasn't I near betrayin' me ignorance. Sure'n I thought there was a large family of suns, and they riz one after the other; but I gathered meself quick, and says I to him, "Well," says I, "I'm surprized you ax me that simple question. I thought any man 'ud know" says I, "when the sun sinks to rest in the west that er-when the sun- 99 says I. "You said that before" says he. "Well," I want to impress it strongly upon you," says I. "When the sun sinks to rest behind the glorious hills of the east-no, west-why, he-why, he waits till it grows very dark and then he goes back in the noight-toime!" BELAGCHOLLY DAYS ANONYMOUS Chilly Dovebber with his boadigg blast Dow cubs add strips the beddow add the lawd, I kdow dot what it is to which I cligg Add dow, farewell to roses add to birds, I faid would speak. Farewell, by cherished strolliggs od the sward, A PANTOMIME SPEECH ANONYMOUS Have you ever realized what a funny thing it is to see a lot of people talking and gesticulating and not hear a single sound from them? The next time you are in a crowded dining-room, close your ears with your hands, and you will be quickly converted to the Darwinian theory. This was forcibly imprest upon my mind at a political gather |