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James R. Osgood, 1875 - 152 pages

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Page 79 - 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.
Page 34 - From out the gusty pine. Lost is that camp, and wasted all its fire; And he who wrought that spell? — Ah, towering pine and stately Kentish spire, Ye have one tale to tell! Lost is that camp! but let its fragrant story Blend with the breath that thrills With hop-vines' incense all the pensive glory That fills the Kentish hills.
Page 132 - Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick alarming drum. "Let me of my heart take counsel: War is not of life the sum; Who shall stay and reap the harvest When the autumn days shall come?" But the drum Echoed, "Come! Death shall reap the braver harvest," said the solemnsounding drum.
Page 33 - The roaring camp-fire, with rude humor, painted The ruddy tints of health On haggard face and form that drooped and fainted In the fierce race for wealth. Till one arose and from his pack's scant treasure A hoarded volume drew, And cards were dropped from hands of listless leisure To hear the tale anew. And then, while round them shadows gathered faster, And as the firelight fell, He read aloud the book wherein the Master Had writ of
Page 30 - Well, well, it's all past ; yet it's funny To think, as I stood in the glare Of fashion and beauty and money, That I should be thinking, right there, Of some one who breasted high water, And swam the North Fork, and all that, Just to dance with old Folinsbee's daughter, The Lily of Poverty Flat. But goodness! what nonsense I'm writing! (Mamma says my taste still is low,) Instead of my triumphs reciting, I'm spooning on Joseph,— heigh-ho ! And I'm to be "finished" by travel, — Whatever's the meaning...
Page 146 - Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, And tempted her out of her gloom, And conquered her scruples and gloom; And we passed to the end of the vista, But were stopped by the door of a tomb, By the door of a legended tomb; And I said — "What is written, sweet sister, On the door of this legended tomb?
Page 87 - Then Abner Dean of Angel's raised a point of order — when A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen, And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and curled up on the floor, And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.
Page 60 - And right on the top of his trouble kem his wife and five kids from the States. It was rough, mighty rough ; But the boys they stood by, And they brought him the stuff For a house, on the sly ; And the old woman, — well, she did washing, and took on when no one was nigh. But this yer luck...
Page 36 - WHAT was it the Engines said, Pilots touching, — head to head Facing on the single track, Half a world behind each back ? This is what the Engines said, Unreported and unread. With a prefatory screech, In a florid Western speech, Said the Engine from the WEST : " I am from Sierra's crest ; And, if altitude's a test, Why, I reckon, it's confessed That I've done my level best.
Page 53 - Feel of that neck, sir, — thar 's velvet ! Whoa ! Steady, — • ah, will you, you vixen ! Whoa ! I say. Jack, trot her out ; let the gentleman look at her paces. Morgan ! — She ain't nothin' else, and I 've got the papers to prove it.

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