William Frederick Kirk

“ Yu say, "Dese guys ban mostly yaps: Ay vish ay had some money, tu, And not get all dese gude hard raps." Val, Maester, it ban op to yu. Sometimes ay s'pose yu vork long hours, And ant get wery fancy pay; Den yu can't buying stacks of flowers And feed yure girl in gude café, And drenk yin rickies and frappé. Oh, yes! dis mak yu purty blue. Yu lak to have more fun, yu say? Val, Maester, it ban op to yu. Dis vorld ant got much room to spare For men vich make dis hard-luck cry,— 'Bout von square foot vile dey ban har, And six feet after dey skol die. Time "fugit,"—high-school vord for "fly" ”

“ Ay s'pose he hunting every day And killing lots of game; Ef he ban missing such a chance, Ay tenk it ban a shame. Some fallers yump on him von day, And taking him to yail, And tal him he skol have to pay Sax tousand dollars' bail. "Yeew hiz!" say Tell. "Sax tousand bones! Ay ant got saxty cents!" And so dey mak him breaking stones Behind big iron fence. Den Olaf Gessler say to him: "Bill, yu ban qvite gude shot, So ay skol give yu yust von chance To vinning nice yack pot. Yure son ban purty brave young kid; Ay tell yu, on the dead, Yu skol go free ef you can shoot Dis apple off his head." ”

“ Some of dem ban rich men's boys, Who ban having planty toys, Vearing nicest clo'es in town, Lak dis little Buster Brown. Don't yu care! Ven dey grow up, And ban shining at pink tea, Drenking tea from china cup, Yu skol give dem loud tee-hee. Yu skol laugh at dis har mob Ven dey come to yu for yob. Barefoot boy, yu ant got cent; But ay tal yu dis, some day Yu got chance for president Ef dese woters com yure vay. Yust keep vistling all day long, Yust keep senging little song, And ef yu skol alvays love Some one who ban op above, Who ban making day and night, He skol fix yu out all right. ”

“ Ay ban a Norsk, yu say. But he ban little faller, Ay tenk 'bout sax years old, And so ay used to lak him— He ban too small to scold. Ay used to say, "Val, Yimmie, Ay ant ban Svede, but yu Can call me Svede,—ay lak yu And ant care vat yu du." By Yeorge! Ay'm glad, ay tal yu, Dat ay ban gude to him, Because one venter morning Ay ant see little Yim. And next day funeral vagon Com driving op to door, And Yim, poor little faller, Can't call me Svede no more!
TILLIE OLSON Little Tillie Olson Ban my little pearl; God ant never making Any nicer girl. Dis har Qveen of Sheba, She ban nice to see ”

“ A GOOD FELLOW Dey tal me ay ban a gude faller. Ay guess dey ban right; but, yee whiz! Ef yu ever ban a gude faller, Yu know 'bout how costly it is. Ay vork op in voods since Nowember, And ban op on drive all the spring, And den ay com down har in city And vatch all my riches tak ving. Oh, yes, ay ban yolly gude faller,— All venter ay eat pork and beans; Ay only ban har since last Monday, Now ay ant got cent in my yeans. Dese geezers dat call me "Old Stocking," And pat me lak hal on the back, Skol give me gude snub 'bout to-morrow, And calling me "slob lumberyack!" ”

“ Yeorge Vashington ban honest man. Ven dis har country first began, Yeorge ban a yen'ral, and yu bet Dese English fallers know it yet. Ven he ban small, his fader say, "Ef yu skol breng in vood to-day, And feeding cow and chickens, tu, Ay skol yust blow myself on yu."
Val, sure enuff, ven Yeorge du chore, His fader hike for hardvare store, And buy gude hatchet, only it Ban second-hand a little bit. Dar ban on edge some little dents, It ban marked down to saxty cents. He pay sax cents to sharpen axe, And so it cost him saxty-sax. He tak it home to Yeorgie, tu, And say, "Ay ant ban fuling you." ”

“ Speak yentle to the coal-man—he Ban easy to get mad; Ef yu ant getting any coal, By yinger, dat ban bad! Speak yentle to the alderman, Ven he ban feeling blue, And maybe, ven he turn gude trick. He skol whack op vith yu. Speak yentle to yure lady frends, And give gude lots of bunk, Ef yu skol lak to getting chance To put yure clothes in trunk. Speak yentle to Yim Yeffries, tu,— Ay tenk dis ban gude hunch; Den yu ant need to put yure face On Maester Yeffries' punch! Speak yentle everyvere yu go, And people skol forget That yu ban vatching for gude chance Tu vinning every bet! ”

“ Vat for should dis spirit of mortal ban proud? Man valk round a minute, and talk purty loud; Den doctor ban coming, and say, "Ay can't save." And man have to tak running yump into grave.
To-day dis har faller ban svelling around, His head ban so light dat his feet ant touch ground. To-morrow he light vith his face in the sand, And hustle lak hal to get gude helping hand.
Ay see lots of fallers who tenk dey ban vise, Yu see dem yureself ef yu open yure eyes; Dey tal 'bout the gold dey skol making some day, And yump ven the vash-voman com for her pay. ”

“ It ban gude many years ago, Ay ant got date yust right. Dar ban some foxy geezers Who march avay from home, And tenk they having qvite gude chance To raise some hal in Rome. Lars Porsena ban starting it,— Ay tenk Lars ban a Svede; He raise 'bout tousand soldiers, And put himself in lead. Then he began tu marching, And all his frends march, tu, Till they skol come almost to Rome, Var dey skol rest a few. Then op spake Maester Horatius, Captain of dis har gate: "To every yackass on dis earth Death coming sune or late. So how can ay die better Than vatching bridge, yu say? ”