That heathen Chinee, and other poems mostly humorous, Випуск 187

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Сторінка 15 - Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar — Which the same I am free to maintain.
Сторінка 17 - But the hands that were played By that heathen Chinee, And the points that he made, Were quite frightful to see — Till at last he put down a right bower, Which the same Nye had dealt unto me. Then I looked up at Nye. And he gazed upon me; And he rose with a sigh, And said, "Can this be? We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor," And he went for that heathen Chinee.
Сторінка 127 - ABOVE the pines the moon was slowly drifting, The river sang below ; The dim Sierras, far beyond, uplifting Their minarets of snow. The roaring camp-fire, with rude humor, painted The ruddy tints of health On haggard face and form that drooped and fainted In the fierce race for wealth ; Till one arose, and from his pack's scant treasure A hoarded volume drew, And cards were dropped from hands of listless leisure To hear the tale anew. And then, while round them...
Сторінка 29 - bout your size; Same kind of eyes; — Well, that is strange : Why, it's two year Since he came here, Sick, for a change. Well, here's to us: Eh? The h — you say! Dead? That little cuss ? What makes you star', You over thar ? Can'ta man drop 'S glass in yer shop But you must rar' ? It wouldn't take D — much to break You and your bar.
Сторінка 53 - Brief is the glory that hero earns, Briefer the story of poor John Burns : He was the fellow who won renown, — The only man who didn't back down When the rebels rode through his native town But held his own in the fight next day, When all his townsfolk ran away. That was hi July, sixty-three, The very day that General Lee, Flower of Southern chivalry, Baffled and beaten, backward reeled From a stubborn Meade and a barren field.
Сторінка 53 - HAVE you heard the story that gossips tell Of Burns of Gettysburg ? — No ? Ah, well ! Brief is the glory that hero earns, Briefer the story of poor John Burns : He was the fellow who won renown, — The only man who didn't back down When the rebels rode through his native town, But held his own in the fight next day, When all his townsfolk ran away.
Сторінка 25 - Now I hold it is not decent for a scientific gent To say another is an ass, — at least, to all intent ; Nor should the individual who happens to be meant Reply by heaving rocks at him to any great extent.
Сторінка 55 - Round-shot ploughed the upland glades, Sown with bullets, reaped with blades; Shattered fences here and there Tossed their splinters in the air; The very trees were stripped and bare; The barns...
Сторінка 33 - Lickity, lickity, switch, we came to the ford, and Chiquita Buckled right down to her work, and afore I could yell to her rider, Took water jest at the ford, and there was the Jedge and me standing, And twelve hundred dollars of hoss-flesh afloat, and a driftin' to thunder! Would ye b'lieve it, that night, that hoss, — that ar...
Сторінка 76 - Eo — Mio — Plio — Whatsoe'er the 'cene' was That those vacant sockets filled with awe and wonder — Whether shores Devonian or Silurian beaches — Tell us thy strange story! "Or has the professor slightly antedated By some thousand years thy advent on this planet, Giving thee an air that's somewhat better fitted For cold-blooded creatures? "Wert thou true spectator of that mighty forest When above thy head the stately Sigillaria Reared its columned trunks in that remote and distant Carboniferous...

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