Willie and Bess, Georgie and May, And joy of summer,--where are they? The grim old man still standeth near, Crooning the song of a far-off year; And into the winter I come alone, Cheered by that mournful requiem, Soothed by the dolorous monotone That shall count me off as it counted them,-- The solemn voice of old Father Time, Chanting the homely nursery rhyme He learned of the children a summer morn, When, with "apple-seed and apple-thorn," Life was full of the dulcet cheer That bringeth the grace of heaven anear: The sound of the little ones hard at play,-- Willie and Bess, Georgie and May. MODJESKY AS CAMEEL. AFORE we went to Denver we had heerd the Tabor Grand, Allowed by critics ez the finest opry in the land; And, roundin' up at Denver in the fall of '81, Well heeled in p'int uv looker 'nd a-pinin' for some fun, We told Bill Bush that we wuz fixed quite comf'table for wealth, And hadn't struck that altitood entirely for our health. You see we knew Bill Bush at Central City years ago; (An' a whiter man than that same Bill you could not wish to know!) Bill run the Grand for Tabor, 'nd he gin us two a deal Ez how we really otter see Modjesky ez Cameel. Three-Fingered Hoover stated that he'd great deal ruther go To call on Charley Sampson than frequent a opry show. "The queen uv tradegy," sez he, "is wot I've never seen, And I reckon there is more for _me_ in some other kind uv queen." "Git out!" sez Bill, disgusted-like, "and can't you never find A pleasure in the things uv life wich ellervates the mind? You've set around in Casey's restawraw a year or more, An' heerd ol' Vere de Blaw perform shef doovers by the score, Only to come down here among us _tong_ an' say you feel You'd ruther take in faro than a opry like 'Cameel'!" But it seems it wurn't no opry, but a sort uv foreign play, With a heap uv talk an' dressin' that wuz both de_kolly_tay. A young chap sparks a gal, who's caught a dook that's old an' wealthy,-- She has a cold 'nd faintin' fits, and is gin'rally onhealthy. She says she has a record; but the young chap doesn't mind, And it looks ez if the feller wuz a proper likely kind Until his old man sneaks around 'nd makes a dirty break, And the young one plays the sucker 'nd gives the girl the shake. "Armo! Armo!" she hollers; but he flings her on the floor, And says he ainter goin' to have no truck with her no more.