OCR Text |
Show 9 M Rippling' ' I Rhymes j SBy WALT MASON, v J j a lal THE CAUSE All thi woild is In (ommotlon, forty kinds of dust we raise, every pent with crazy notion has an ou'dience theso days, all the peoplea rise and elamor for nev aVenuea to trjid ever) fallow has hammer, and he'd baali another'a hea l. And the man who once waa kalai i .-a i whit.' peoph nt up thus. I'm the little -ar! rlaei who kicked up this beastly fus " No one's with his work contented, con-tented, every voter scorns his Job: and i the autumn air is scented with the ! curses of the mob. Now that Indus-ti'. Indus-ti'. i needed lduatry la lying low; and I the countriea all are seeded to the drag-j drag-j on's troth of woe. Cold the forges of I the founder all deserted Is the mill; J and tbo rlomncoRiio nnd bounder aren't I for an Instant still. Now no stream of smoke Is pouring fiom the lofty stacxa ! brick, nnd no looms disturb the roaring roar-ing of the anarchistic hick And th man who cmee was kaiser, says as or. iho fence ho leans. "I'm tho blatant advertiser ad-vertiser who upset tho dlah of bea'ni s.i the nations, "Wo shall haul him to tho court, and treat him rough;" but no fate that could befall him would be pun-jahmant pun-jahmant enough. So perhaps we'd bettor let him llnsvr where ho say and tings; batter pass him up and forget him. n'hli-1 wo try to straighten th'.nis. |