Ambrose Gwinett Bierce Quotes on Youth (3 Quotes)

BODY-SNATCHER, n. A robber of grave-worms. One who supplies the young physicians with that with which the old physicians have supplied the undertaker. The hyena. One night, a doctor said, last fall, I and my comrades, four in all, When visiting a graveyard stood Within the shadow of a wall. While waiting for the moon to sink We saw a wild hyena slink About a new-made grave, and then Begin to excavate its brink; Shocked by the horrid act, we made A sally from our ambuscade, And, falling on the unholy beast, Dispatched him with a pick and spade. --Bettel K. Jhones.

MAIDEN, n. A young person of the unfair sex addicted to clewless conduct and views that madden to crime. The genus has a wide geographical distribution, being found wherever sought and deplored wherever found. The maiden is not altogether unpleasing to the eye, nor (without her piano and her views) insupportable to the ear, though in respect to comeliness distinctly inferior to the rainbow, and, with regard to the part of her that is audible, bleating out of the field by the canary --which, also, is more portable.A lovelorn maiden she sat and sang -- This quaint, sweet song sang sheIt's O for a youth with a football bang And a muscle fair to see The Captain he Of a team to be On the gridiron he shall shine, A monarch by right divine, And never to roast on it --me --Opoline Jones

MEERSCHAUM, n. (Literally, seafoam, and by many erroneously supposed to be made of it.) A fine white clay, which for convenience in coloring it brown is made into tobacco pipes and smoked by the workmen engaged in that industry. The purpose of coloring it has not been disclosed by the manufacturers.There was a youth (you've heard before, This woeful tale, may be), Who bought a meerschaum pipe and swore That color it would heHe shut himself from the world away, Nor any soul he saw. He smoke by night, he smoked by day, As hard as he could draw.His dog died moaning in the wrath Of winds that blew aloof The weeds were in the gravel path, The owl was on the roof.He's gone afar, he'll come no more, The neighbors sadly say. And so they batter in the door To take his goods away.Dead, pipe in mouth, the youngster lay, Nut-brown in face and limb.That pipe's a lovely white, they say,But it has colored himThe moral there's small need to sing --'Tis plain as day to you Don't play your game on any thing That is a gamester too. --Martin Bulstrode