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"Are You Fond Of Fishing?
A Foolish Amusement, It Seems To Me,
To Be Rocking About On The Briny Sea
Watching for bites 'neath a broiling sun,
(Mosquitoes will give you 'em when day is done)
For my part I'd
Rather be left in peace
To read of travels in sunny Greece
Varied by poem on 'Pleasures of Hope', -
Whate'er my employment I shall not mope -
But it proves great sport for cousin Bill.
(He's a youth just starting up Life's hill)
But should he as old as I become
He would conclude that 't is all a 'hum'."
Where a person generally considered "proper" became familiar with slang
I cannot imagine, but I make no remarks. Owing to the absence of two
members of the household, who, having been caught out in the shower, are
probably calculating the specific gravity of rain drops and their effect
on new straw hats, we have doubtless been deprived of more poems of
surprising depth and brilliancy. And, from regard for the excessive
modesty of other participants in the game, I suppress many compositions
of rare merit which were brought out this stormy evening. This letter is
merely to acquaint you with an important fact, which is as follows. As
Dr. Holmes has informed you with regard to the "Asylum for Decayed
Punsters," be it known hereby that we have here started a rival
institution, - a school for poets; so when you wish to secure the
services of any of the graduates, you may know where to apply. And, the
reason why the game of Crambo is like night is, because it is quiet in
the middle and noisy at both ends.
End of Over the Border: Acadia, by Eliza Chase
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