When they was high, then I was low,
An' also contrawise;

An' I too fast, or they too slow,
To "mansions in the skies."

An' after every verse, you know,
They play a little tune;
I didn't understand, and so
I started in too soon.

I pitched it pretty middlin' high,
I fetched a lusty tone,
But oh, alas! I found that I

Was singin' there alone!
They laughed a little, I am told;
But I had done my best;

And not a wave of trouble rolled
Across my peaceful breast.

And Sister Brown - I could but look

She sits right front of me;
She never was no singin'-book,
An' never went to be;

But then she al'ays tried to do
The best she could, she said;

She understood the time right through,
An' kep' it with her head;

But when she tried this mornin', oh,
I had to laugh, or cough!
It kep' her head a-bobbin' so,

It e'en a'most came off!

As one might well suppose;

He took one look at Sister Brown,
And meekly scratched his nose.
He looked his hymn-book through and
through,

And laid it on the seat,

And then a pensive sigh he drew,
And looked completely beat.
And when they took another bout,
He didn't even rise;

But drawed his red bandanner out,
An' wiped his weepin' eyes.

I've been a sister, good an' true,

For five-an'-thirty year;

I've done what seemed my part to do,

An' prayed my duty clear;

But Death will stop my voice, I know,

For he is on my track;

And some day I to church will go,

And never more come back;

And when the folks gets up to sing —
Whene'er that time shall be-

I do not want no patent thing
A-squealin' over me!

WILL CARLETON.

A Hindoo died -
-a happy thing to do
All day she hurried to get through
Alone I sit at eventide

A maiden once, of certain age

A man sat on a rock and sought
"Are there no real good Injuns?"

As vonce I valked by a dismal swamp
A sweet, acidulous, down-reaching thrill
Baby Bye.

Baby's brain is tired of thinking

Basking in peace in the warm spring sun

Dear maid, let me speak

Dear Priscilla, quaint, and very

Der boet may sing off "Der Oldt Oaken Bookit"

Dere vhas a leedle vomans once

346
317

69

242

294
176

63
177

32
151

Dhere vas many queer dings in dis land off der free. 327

Far off in the waste of desert sand

Feel more 'an ever like a fool

Five mites of monads dwelt in a round drop
"God bless the man who first invented sleep!"
God makes sech nights, all white an' still.

Good old Elder Lamb has labored for a thousand

Gosh! But Phoebe did look sweet!

Go 'way, fiddle! Folks is tired, etc.
Guvener B. is a sensible man

Hans Breitmann gife a barty

Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay

He sermonized industriously in his didactic way
He took me out to see the stars

He was jes' a plain, ever'-day, all-round kind of a

jour.

He was the Chairman of the Guild

His engagement is ended at last

His heart a maiden robbed him of

I don'd vas preaching voman's righdts

I don't go much on religion

I haf von funny leedle poy

"I know what you're going to say," she said

I lay i' the bosom of the sun

.

24

120

113

283

332

4

107

116

281

138

78

26

56

I nebber breaks a colt afore he's old enough to

trabbel

In letters large upon the frame.

It is positively false to call us frantic

It is very aggravating

It's all very well for preachin'

313

65