Poems for Pale People

and sure--
In fact, get Blank's Consumptive Cure.

ALAS.

He led her out across the sand,
And by her side did sit:
He asked to hold her little hand,
She sweetly answered, "Nit."

THE GLORIOUS FOURTH AND ITS MEMORIES.

Have you ever mused in silence upon a summer's day
And let your thoughts run riot and your feelings have full sway, As you sprawled full length upon the grass in some secluded dell And breathed the balmy country air, and smelt the country smell?

Then as you muse,
And gently snooze,
Between thinks
You remember those jinks
When spirits were high
On the Fourth of July.

There was little Willie Browning, the worst of all the boys Who had a sure-nuff cannon that made all kinds of noise; And when the cannon wouldn't go he blew into the muzzle, But what became of Willie's teeth has always been a puzzle.

How the folks looked askance
At the seats of our pants,
When those giant sk