Lives of great men all remind us Rose is red and violet’s blue; Johnny’s got his gun behind us ’Cause the lamb loved Mary too. — Robert Burns’ “Hocht Time in the aud Town.”
I’d rather write this, as bad as it is Than be Will Shakespeare’s shade; I’d rather be known as an F. F. V. Than in Mount Vernon laid. I’d rather count ties from Denver to Troy Than to head Booth’s old programme; I’d rather be special for the New York World Than to lie with Abraham.
A letter to his daughter Margaret.
“Ikey, this is mine vater from Waco, come to visit me. Bring us
two goot dinners und der dice-box”
For there’s stuff in the can, there’s Dolly and Fan, And a hundred things to choose; There’s a kiss in the ring, and every old thing That a real live man can use.
I’d rather fight flies in a boarding house Than fill Napoleon’s grave, And snuggle up warm in my three slat bed Than be André the brave. I’d rather distribute a coat of red On the town with a wad of dough Just now, than to have my cognomen Spelled “Michael Angelo.”
For a small live man, if he’s prompt on hand When the good things pass around, While the world’s on tap has a better snap Than a big man under ground.
%252C_facing_p._242r.jpg)
%252C_facing_p._242v.jpg)
%252C_facing_p._243v.png)