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ain't baby better boys brown called CHARLES comes Coryphodon cried dear door eyes face fair feel feet feller folks gave girls give goes green guess hair hand he'd head hear heart it's John keep kind kiss lady laugh leave light live look mamma married mean mighty mind Miss morning nature never night nose once passed pray rain rest rise round seemed seen side sing smile speak spring stand strong sweet talk taste tell There's thet things thought took town true turn Twas voice wait watched wear wife wish young
Сторінка 248 - THE mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel ; And the former called the latter ' Little Prig '. Bun replied, ' You are doubtless very big ; But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace 10 To occupy my place.
Сторінка 126 - To see my Ma? She's sprinklin' clo'es Agin to-morrer's i'nin'." To say why gals acts so or so, Or don't 'ould be persumin'; Mebby to mean yes an' say no Comes nateral to women. He stood a spell on one foot fust, Then stood a spell on t'other, An' on which one he felt the wust He couldn't ha
Сторінка 327 - WHEN I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes.
Сторінка 159 - The parson was working his Sunday's text, Had got to fifthly, and stopped perplexed At what the -Moses - was coming next. All at once the horse stood still, Close by the meet'n'-house on the hill First a shiver, and then a thrill, Then something decidedly like a spill.
Сторінка 233 - B. is a sensible man ; He stays to his home an' looks arter his folks ; He draws his furrer ez straight ez he can, An' into nobody's tater-patch pokes ; But John P. Robinson he Sez he wunt vote fer Guvener B. My ! ain't it terrible ? Wut shall we du ? We can't never choose him o...
Сторінка 155 - HAVE you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day...
Сторінка 78 - MY AUNT. MY aunt ! my dear unmarried aunt ! Long years have o'er her flown ; Yet still she strains the aching clasp That binds her virgin zone ; I know it hurts her, — though she looks As cheerful as she can ; Her waist is ampler than her life, For life is but a span.
Сторінка 157 - Last of its timber— they couldn't sell 'em. Never an axe had seen their chips, And the wedges flew from between their lips, Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips ; Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, Steel of the finest, bright and blue ; Thoroughbrace bison-skin, thick and wide ; Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide Found in the pit when the tanner died. That was the way he "put her through.
Сторінка 20 - WHO stuffed that white owl?" No one spoke in the shop: The barber was busy, and he couldn't stop; The customers, waiting their turns, were all reading The Daily, the Herald, the Post, little heeding The young man who blurted out such a blunt question; Not one raised a head, or even made a suggestion; And the barber kept on shaving. "Don't you see, Mister Brown...