| Show g Sbok Lifes Ironies There arc snakes amid things in whisky straight I And microbes In the air In dinners line when eaten late There often is nightmare Theres not a pleasure small or great But labeled Is Howard Another Idol Gone TIme story of the hatchet will soon be told aguin But tts robbed of half Its glory tho tis WashIngtonian And children yot unborn will join In this our lamentation Since tis chnnncsl from sliiuhhig cherry trees to Joints by Mrs Nation Why She Hissed It She married a boy of tender years Who was younger by fur than she She had Hjnired It out and fondly thought She could manage him easily I But slrango to say when the two were wed The hopes she had hold grew dim And she was the ono who was managed Instead So Jealous ijhc was of him Not Too Old to be New i lie asked the woman how Old she was She was aged twlxt mo cud you The fiuc tlon was vain for she answered thus Why I am not old but now S The One He Saw He entered the anloon ho said To sec a man not tar Indeed he wandered from the truth Tuns the man behind the bur |