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I. After the New Jersey Election, 1865. Saint’s Rest(wich is in the State uv Noo Gersey),November, 9, 1865. Never wuz I in so pleasant a frame uv mind as last night. All wuz peace with me, for after bein buffeted about the world for three skore years, at last it seemed to me ez tho forchune, tired uv persekootin a unforchnit bein, hed taken me into favor. I hed a solemn promise from the Demekratic State Central Committy in the great... more...

FOREWORD A SMALL phial, I doubt not, could contain the attar of the epigrammatic literature of all time. Few of the perfumes of this diminutive form of wit and satire have survived. Pretty and scented vaporings, most of the thousands and thousands of them, that have died on the air of the foibles of their day. Yet how the pungent ones can persist! The racy old odors, which are as new as now, that still hover about the political and amorous... more...

Anecdote I.   An elephant, from some motive of revenge, killed his cornack, or conductor. The man’s wife, who beheld the dreadful scene, took her two children, and threw them at the feet of the enraged animal, saying, “Since you have slain my husband, take my life also, as well as that of my children.” The elephant instantly stopped, relented, and as if stung with remorse, took up the eldest boy with his trunk, placed him... more...

PROLOGUE, Written By Mr. Pilon Spoken At The Theatre Royal, Covent-Garden, June 24, 1780. All's safe here, I find, though the rabble routA few doors lower burnt the quorum out.Sad times, when Bow-street is the scene of riot,And justice cannot keep the parish quiet.But peace returning, like the dove appears,And this association stills my fears;Humour and wit the frolic wing may spread,And we give harmless Lectures on the Head.Watchmen in sleep... more...

Upon a certain gladsome occasion a certain man went into a certain restaurant in a certain large city, being imbued with the idea that he desired a certain kind of food. Expense was with him no object. The coming of the holidays had turned his thoughts backward to the care-free days of boyhood and he longed for the holidaying provender of his youth with a longing that was as wide as a river and as deep as a well. "Me, I have tried it all," he... more...


William Dean Howells Not squirrels in the park aloneHis love and winter-kindness own.When Literary Fledglings tryTheir wings, in first attempt to fly,They flutter down to Franklin Square,Where Howells in his "Easy Chair"Like good Saint Francis scatters crumbsOf Hope, to each small bird that comes.And since Bread, cast upon the main,Must to the giver come again,I tender now, long overtime,This humble Crumb of grateful rhyme. (See )... more...

Title Pageillustration The kisses of an enemy are deceitful, but not as deceitful as the advice of the friend who is always counseling you for your own good.illustration The best and the worst in man respond only to woman’s touch—unfortunately for man.illustration Men reason; women do not. Woman has no logic, and judging from the use it is to man, is better off without it.illustration The present arrangement of society... more...

Dere Mable Love Letters of a Rookie Dere Mable: I guess you thought I was dead. Youll never know how near you was to right. We got the tents up at last, though, so I got a minit to rite. I guess they choose these camps by mail order. The only place there flat is on the map. Where our tents is would make a good place for a Rocky Mountin goat if he didnt break his neck. The first day the Captin came out an says "Pitch your tents here." Then he... more...

The Young Nuts of America IT is with a feeling of the utmost reluctance, amounting—if I may use so strong a word—to distress, that I take my pen in hand to indite the exceedingly painful account which follows; yet I feel I owe it not only to myself and the parishioners of St. Barnabas', but to the community at large, to explain in amplified detail why I have withdrawn suddenly, automatically as it were, from the organisation of... more...

FOREWORD By the Editor of "The Bystander."   HEN Tommy went out to the great war, he went smiling, and singing the latest ditty of the halls. The enemy scowled. War, said his professors of kultur and his hymnsters of hate, could never be waged in the Tipperary spirit, and the nation that sent to the front soldiers who sang and laughed must be the very decadent England they had all along denounced as unworthy of world-power. I fear the... more...