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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...

The Widow. "WHAT would you say," asked the widow, tucking her skirts cautiously about her patent leather toes and leaning back luxuriously against the variegated pillows, "if I should tell you that I have found the very girl who would make you a model wife?" The bachelor glanced up indifferently and dipped the paddle lazily into the water. "What model?" he asked, suspiciously. "Women are like automobiles, you know. There are so many models.... more...

TOMY HUSBANDWILLIAM HILL-BRERETONTHIS LITTLE BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELYDEDICATED AKE! For the Spring has scattered into flightThe Vows of Lent, and bids the heart be light.Bring on the Roast, and take the Fish away!The Season calls—and Woman's eyes are bright! EFORE the phantom of Pale Winter died,Methought the Voice of Spring within me cried,"When Hymen's rose-decked altars glow within,Why nods the laggard... more...