On the Downtown Side of an Uptown Street

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While the grave digger makes a note upon his cuff. Eat that lovely red bologna

And you'll wear a wooden kimona,

As your relatives start scrappin 'bout your stuff.

Some little bug is going to find you some day,
Some little bug will creep behind you some day,
Eating juicy sliced pineapple

Makes the sexton dust the chapel;

Some little bug is going to find you some day.

All those crazy foods they mix

Will float us 'cross the River Styx,

Or they'll start us climbing up the milky way.
And the meals we eat in courses

Mean a hearse and two black horses

So before a meal some people always pray.
Luscious grapes breed 'pendicitis,

And the juice leads to gastritis,

So there's only death to greet us either way;

And fried liver's nice, but, mind you,

Friends will soon ride slow behind you

And the papers then will have nice things to say.

Some little bug is going to find you some day,
Some little bug will creep behind you some day
Eat some sauce, they call it chili,

On your breast they'll place a lily;
Some little bug is going to find you some day.

Roy Atwell.

ON THE DOWNTOWN SIDE OF AN
UPTOWN STREET

On the downtown side of an uptown street
Is the home of a girl that I'd like to meet,
But I'm on the uptown,

And she's on the downtown,

On the downtown side of an uptown street.

On the uptown side of the crowded old "L,"
I see her so often I know her quite well,
But I'm on the downtown

When she's on the uptown,

On the uptown side of the crowded old "L."

On the uptown side of a downtown street
This girl is employed that I'd like to meet,
But I work on the downtown

And she on the uptown,

The uptown side of a downtown street.

On a downtown car of the Broadway line
Often I see her for whom I repine,
But when I'm on a uptown

She's on a downtown,

On a downtown car of the Broadway line.

Oh, to be downtown when I am uptown,
Oh, to be uptown when I am downtown,
I work at night time,

She in the daytime,

Never the right time for us to meet,

Uptown or downtown, in "L," car or street.

William Johnston.

WRITTEN AFTER SWIMMING FROM SESTOS TO ABYDOS

IF, in the month of dark December,
Leander, who was nightly wont

(What maid will not the tale remember?)

To cross thy stream broad Hellespont.

If, when the wint'ry tempest roar'd,
He sped to Hero nothing loth,
And thus of old thy current pour'd,
Fair Venus! how I pity both!

The Fisherman's Chant

For me, degenerate, modern wretch,
Though in the genial month of May,
My dripping limbs I faintly stretch,

And think I've done a feat to-day.

But since he crossed the rapid tide,
According to the doubtful story,
To woo-and-Lord knows what beside,
And swam for Love, as I for Glory;

'T were hard to say who fared the best:
Sad mortals! thus the gods still plague you!
He lost his labor, I my jest;

For he was drowned, and I've the ague.

Lord Byron.

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THE FISHERMAN'S CHANT

OI, the fisherman is a happy wight!
He dibbles by day, and he sniggles by night.
He trolls for fish, and he trolls his lay-
He sniggles by night, and he dibbles by day.
Oh, who so merry as he!

On the river or the sea!

Sniggling,
Wriggling

Eels, and higgling

Over the price

Of a nice

Slice

Of fish, twice

As much as it ought to be.

Oh, the fisherman is a happy man!

Ile dibbles, and sniggles, and fills his can!
With a sharpened hook, and a sharper eye,
He sniggles and dibbles for what comes by,
Oh, who so merry as he!

On the river or the sea!

Dibbling
Nibbling

Chub, and quibbling
Over the price

Of a nice

Slice

Of fish, twice

As much as it ought to be.

F. C. Burnand.

REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE

NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS

BETWEEN Nose and. Eyes a strange contest arose,
The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,
To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause
With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning;
While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws,

So famed for his talent in nicely discerning.

In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear,

And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always to wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind.

Then holding the spectacles up to the court-
Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle
As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short,
Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle.

Again, would your lordship a moment suppose
('Tis a case that has happened, and may be again)
That the visage or countenance had not a nose,

Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then!

Prehistoric Smith

On the whole it appears, and my argument shows
With a reasoning the court will never condemn,
That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,
And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.

Then shifting his side (as a lawyer knows how),
Ile pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes;
But what were his arguments few people know,

For the court did not think they were equally wise.

So his lordship decreed with a grave solemn tone,
Decisive and clear, without one if or but-
That, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on,
By daylight or candlelight-Eyes should be shut!

William Cowper.

PREHISTORIC SMITH

QUATERNARY EPOCH-POST-PLIOCENE PERIOD

A MAN sat on a rock and sought
Refreshment from his thumb;

A dinotherium wandered by
And scared him some.

His name was Smith. The kind of rock

Ile sat upon was shale.

One feature quite distinguished him-
He had a tail.

The danger past, he fell into

A revery austere;

While with his tail he whisked a fly
From off his ear.

"Mankind deteriorates," he said,
"Grows weak and incomplete;

And each new generation seems
Yet more effete.

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