Rich man foh de pooh man dance One night in de yeah; Pooh man foh de rich man prance All times, do yuh heah? Pooh man play de violin While de rich man swing; Pooh man squeeze de fiddle in When he wants toh sing! Mistah rich man, hab yoh fun Makin' grub foh us; Min' dat stohy ez yuh run 'Bout ole Lazaruss! Guess yuh'll dance some ober dah, Jes' ez like ez not; Swing dem pahtnehs fas' en fah 'Foh de fiah git hot! Little Sermons. The man who can't live right in this world can't expect to get the chance in the next. There may be more devotion in tears than in laughter, but I'll tie up with the latter and take the risk. No one except Christ ever called the devil Satan to his face; and then they went up into the high mountain and into a private place where no one else could hear the muss. The Santa Claus Boy. The Santa Claus boy is the latest thing out; He's the rage of the season, they say, And wherever you wander, you'll find him about With his beautiful, dutiful way; He's as spick and as span as a dandified man. And his look is a heavenly joy; And however he does it, whatever his plan, We know he's the Santa Claus boy! He jumps out of bed in the morning himself, And he never lies still for the rest; He dresses in haste with the skill of an elf, And he washes and combs with the best; He does up the chores while his small sister snores, And his whistle no longer annoys; He's the pride of the house and the king of out-doors,-- This wonderful Santa Claus boy! He hastens to school with a heart full of glees, And he never turns truant to play: His lessons he learns with the greatest of ease,-- He recites in a beautiful way; And the teacher's so glad that the boy who was bad All his failings has learned to destroy; And she smiles with delight as she breaks up her gad, At the change in the Santa Claus boy! When the Sabbath day comes with its Sunday School hours, He is never once absent or late; And the verses he speaks beat the memory powers Of the sages exalted and great; But he dreams of a Tree, full of presents to be, And with treasures that know not alloy; And the vision he sees fills his bosom with glee For the Sunday School Santa Claus boy! Ah, well, this old codger laid up on the shelf, In the rubbish piled high on life's ways, Knows how it all is,--he has been there himself,-- He has romped through the Santa Claus days; Whatever appears, whether laughter or tears, Let a song every moment employ, As the world tosses gifts through the beautiful years To the glad-hearted Santa Claus boy! Caught on the Fly. Young woman, learn to cook. No man wants his home turned into an experiment station for biscuit making.