The Poetry of American Wit and HumorL. C. Page, 1899 - 367 стор. |
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Сторінка vi
... gives us the Hoosier , Foss the Yankee farmer , Irwin Russell the negro , Leland and Follen Adams the German - American , the whole world laughs not at us , but with us . The editor regrets that the conservatism of their publishers has ...
... gives us the Hoosier , Foss the Yankee farmer , Irwin Russell the negro , Leland and Follen Adams the German - American , the whole world laughs not at us , but with us . The editor regrets that the conservatism of their publishers has ...
Сторінка 10
... whip us— Don't we , Charley ? An ' nen , bime - by , Nen she gives us cake Don't she , Charley ? - - - an ' pie- when we come in An ' p❜omise never to do it agin ! He's named Charley . — I'm Willie An ' I'm IO AMERICAN WIT AND HUMOR .
... whip us— Don't we , Charley ? An ' nen , bime - by , Nen she gives us cake Don't she , Charley ? - - - an ' pie- when we come in An ' p❜omise never to do it agin ! He's named Charley . — I'm Willie An ' I'm IO AMERICAN WIT AND HUMOR .
Сторінка 15
... give a dollar to this suff'rin ' fellow - man . 66 Hand - bags made of Rooshy leather are not truly at my call , Yet in the eyes of Mussy I am richer ' en you all , For I kin give a dollar wher ' you dare not stand a dime , And never ...
... give a dollar to this suff'rin ' fellow - man . 66 Hand - bags made of Rooshy leather are not truly at my call , Yet in the eyes of Mussy I am richer ' en you all , For I kin give a dollar wher ' you dare not stand a dime , And never ...
Сторінка 45
... give relief : But this only proved as spark to the powder , And the storm I had raised came faster and louder ; It blew , and it rained , thundered , lightened , and hailed Interjections , verbs , pronouns , till language quite failed ...
... give relief : But this only proved as spark to the powder , And the storm I had raised came faster and louder ; It blew , and it rained , thundered , lightened , and hailed Interjections , verbs , pronouns , till language quite failed ...
Сторінка 62
... , O listless woman , weary lover ! To feel once more that fresh , wild thrill I'd give — but who can live youth over ? EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN . - Larks and Nightingales . ALONE I sit at eventide : 62 AMERICAN WIT AND HUMOR .
... , O listless woman , weary lover ! To feel once more that fresh , wild thrill I'd give — but who can live youth over ? EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN . - Larks and Nightingales . ALONE I sit at eventide : 62 AMERICAN WIT AND HUMOR .
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POETRY OF AMER WIT & HUMOR SEL Frederic Lawrence 1869-1905 Knowles Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2016 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
agin ain't ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE boys Bret Harte brown bwave called Century Magazine CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS CHARLES GODFREY LELAND coom Coryphodon cried Deacon dear dhose dink dot baby Eohippus eyes feller Flies flosserfize folks gife girls goin guess gwine hair hand head heart heerd HENRY HOWARD BROWNELL Huldah IRWIN RUSSELL JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL JOHN GODFREY SAXE kiss Knittin lady laugh leedle Little Fly Little mamma look lookin married mighty Miss Lucy morning Nevah never night nose o'er oldt once one-hoss shay oudt parson pray Robinson he Sez round SAM WALTER FOSS sech shoost shust sighed sing smile stockin sweet tell thar THEODORE TILTON There's thet thet's things thought Twas Uncle Sammy vrom wear whar Yawcob Strauss young
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Сторінка 250 - 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 vii - 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 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 329 - 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 235 - 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...