GOAT-FEATHERS No human being ever tells the whole truth about himself. We seem to be born liars in that particular, all of us, and I am no different. I'm starting out now to tell the bitter, agonizing truth about myself, but before I am through I shall probably be lying at the rate of a mile a minute and cracking myself up something awful! A man can tell only so much truth; then he begins to wabble. The truth is, I ought to be making as much... more...

A man of kind and noble mind Was H. Gustavus Hyde. ’Twould be amiss to add to this At present, for he died, In full possession of his senses, The day before my tale commences. One half his gold his four-year-old Son Paul was known to win, And Beatrix, whose age was six, For all the rest came in, Perceiving which, their Uncle Ben did A thing that people said was splendid. For by the hand he took them, and Remarked in... more...

Burr. Bird.   The Bird and the Burdock. Who is there who has never heard, About the Burdock and the Bird? And yet how very very few, Discriminate between the two, While even Mr. Burbank can't Transform a Bird into a Plant!   The Clover. The Plover.   The Plover and the Clover can be told apart with ease, By paying close attention to the habits of the Bees, For en-to-molo-gists aver, the Bee can be in... more...

HUMOUR OF THE NORTH   THE BLUE NOSE Let the Student of Nature in rapture descant, On the Heaven's cerulean hue; Let the Lover indulge in poetical rant, When the eyes of his Mistress are blue. But fill high your glasses—fill, fill to the brim, I've a different toast to propose: While such eyes, and such skies, still are beaming for him, Here's a health to the jolly Blue Nose. Let the Frenchman delight in his... more...

PREFACE The ways of telling a story are as many as the tellers themselves. It is impossible to lay down precise rules by which any one may perfect himself in the art, but it is possible to offer suggestions by which to guide practise in narration toward a gratifying success. Broadly distinguished, there are two methods of telling a story. One uses the extreme of brevity, and makes its chief reliance on the point. The other devotes itself in... more...

CHAPTER ONETHE JUDGES OF ENGLAND Mr. Justice Darling, whose witty remarks from the Bench are so much appreciated by his audiences in Court, and, it is rumoured, are not always received with approval by his brother judges, says, in his amusing book Scintillæ Juris: "It is a common error to suppose that our law has no sense of humour, because for the most part the judges who expound it have none." But law is, after all, a serious... more...

Times has changed, says Maw to herself, says she. Things ain't like what they used to be. Time was when I worked from sunup to sundown, and we didn't have no daylight-saving contraptions on the old clock, neither. The girls was too little then, and I done all the work myself—cooking, sweeping, washing and ironing, suchlike. I never got to church Sundays because I had to stay home and get the Sunday dinner. Like enough they'd bring the... more...

chapter i Extra! Extra! All About The Great Reduction! The way I look at this thing is this way: If something happens to you and by writing about it you can make a bit of money and at the same time be a benefactor to the race, then why not? Does not the philanthropic aspect of the proposition more than balance off the mercenary side? I hold that it does, or at least that it should, in the estimation of all fair-minded persons. It is to this... more...

ALIBI There is no particular reason why I should horn in on you Public with a Book, But thats just when they seem to write them, When theres no need or reason for them, The shorter white Paper gets the more careless these Pen Hounds get with it, All my friends advise me to go ahead Will and write it cause you wont annoy people with it like these other Writers do with theirs, Nobody will read yours When a Guy has never grazed educationally any... more...

PREFACE. Again it come to pass, in the fulness of time, that my companion, Josiah Allen, see me walk up and take my ink stand off of the manteltry piece, and carry it with a calm and majestick gait to the corner of the settin' room table devoted by me to literary pursuits. And he sez to me: "What are you goin' to tackle now, Samantha?" And sez I, with quite a good deal of dignity, "The Cause of Eternal Justice, Josiah Allen." "Anythin' else?"... more...