On the Downtown Side of an Uptown Street 79 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, 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. Mean a hearse and two black horses So before a meal some people always pray. 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, On your breast they'll place a lily; Roy Atwell. ON THE DOWNTOWN SIDE OF AN On the downtown side of an uptown street And she's on the downtown, On the downtown side of an uptown street. On the uptown side of the crowded old "L," When she's on the uptown, On the uptown side of the crowded old "L." On the uptown side of a downtown street And she on the uptown, The uptown side of a downtown street. On a downtown car of the Broadway line She's on a downtown, On a downtown car of the Broadway line. Oh, to be downtown when I am uptown, 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, (What maid will not the tale remember?) To cross thy stream broad Hellespont. If, when the wint'ry tempest roar'd, The Fisherman's Chant For me, degenerate, modern wretch, And think I've done a feat to-day. But since he crossed the rapid tide, 'T were hard to say who fared the best: For he was drowned, and I've the ague. Lord Byron. 81 THE FISHERMAN'S CHANT OI, the fisherman is a happy wight! On the river or the sea! Sniggling, 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! On the river or the sea! Dibbling Chub, and quibbling 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, So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause 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- Again, would your lordship a moment suppose Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then! Prehistoric Smith On the whole it appears, and my argument shows Then shifting his side (as a lawyer knows how), For the court did not think they were equally wise. So his lordship decreed with a grave solemn tone, William Cowper. PREHISTORIC SMITH QUATERNARY EPOCH-POST-PLIOCENE PERIOD A MAN sat on a rock and sought A dinotherium wandered by His name was Smith. The kind of rock Ile sat upon was shale. One feature quite distinguished him- The danger past, he fell into A revery austere; While with his tail he whisked a fly "Mankind deteriorates," he said, And each new generation seems 83 |