Old Spookses’ Pass (Isabella Valancy Crawford Poems)
I. WE'D camped that night on Yaller Bull Flat,— Thar was Possum Billy, an' Tom, an' me. Right smart at throwin' a lariat Was ...
I. WE'D camped that night on Yaller Bull Flat,— Thar was Possum Billy, an' Tom, an' me. Right smart at throwin' a lariat Was ...
I don't much s'pose, hows'ever I should plen it,I could git boosted into th' House or Sennit,--Nut while the twolegged ...
I hed it on my min' las' time, when I to write ye started,To tech the leadin' featurs o' my ...
It's some consid'ble of a spell sence I hain't writ no letters,An' ther' 's gret changes hez took place in ...
TO THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLYI love to start out arter night's begun,An' all the chores about the farm ...
You've seen his place, I reckon, friend? 'Twas rather kind ov tryin'.The way he made the dollars fly, Such gimcrack things a-buyin'-- He ...
I thank ye, my frien's, for the warmth o' your greetin':Ther' 's few airthly blessin's but wut's vain an' fleetin';But ...
Once git a smell o' musk into a draw,An' it clings hold like precerdents in law;Your gra'ma'am put it there,—when, ...
At An Extrumpery Caucus In State Street, Reported By Mr. H. BiglowNo? Hez he? He haint, though? Wut? Voted agin ...
DEAR SIR,--Your letter come to han' Requestin' me to please be funny;But I ain't made upon a plan Thet knows wut's comin', ...
DEY had a gread big pahty down to Tom's de othah night;Was I dah? You bet! I neveh in my ...
We is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs, In dis howlin' wildaness,Fu' to speak some words of comfo't To each othah in distress.An' we ...
Dear Sir—You wish to know my notionsOn sartin pints thet rile the land;There's nothin' thet my natur so shunsEs bein' ...
Dey greets you wid a nod an' smile,Way down in Ole Kintucky,Dat maiks you feel lak life's wuth w'ileWay down ...
I wouldn't make no Wall Street king;I'm no financial guy;I don't know much o' anythingBut makin' money fly.But I kin ...
It was down at the home ranch, a bunch of cow pokesGot in an old hoss that was only half ...
I sorter like a gloomy day, Th' kind that jest _won't_ smile; It makes a feller hump hisself ...
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