Selections of American Humour in Prose and Verse

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John Hamer
Cassell, 1883 - 318 pages

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Page 107 - On the other side he looked down into a deep mountain glen, wild, lonely, and shagged, the bottom filled with fragments from the impending cliffs, and scarcely lighted by the reflected rays of the setting sun. For some time Rip lay musing on this scene; evening was gradually advancing; the mountains began to throw their long blue shadows over the valleys; he saw that it would be dark long before he could reach the village, and he heaved a heavy sigh when he thought of encountering the terrors of...
Page 110 - He now suspected that the grave roysterers of the mountain had put a trick upon him, and, having dosed him with liquor, had robbed him of his gun. Wolf, too, had disappeared, but he might have strayed away after a squirrel or partridge. He whistled after him and shouted his name, but all in vain ; the echoes repeated his whistle and shout, but no dog was to be seen. He determined to revisit the scene of the last evening's gambol, and if he met with any of the party, to demand his dog and gun. As...
Page 114 - ... selfimportant man in the cocked hat, who, when the alarm was over, had returned to the field, screwed down the corners of his mouth, and shook his head upon which there was a general shaking of the head throughout the assemblage.
Page 92 - or an " I tell yeou ") He would build one shay to beat the taown 'N' the keounty 'n' all the kentry raoun' ; It should be so built that it couldn' break daown : " Fur," said the Deacon, " 't's mighty plain Thut the weakes' place mus' stan' the strain 'N' the way t' fix it, uz I maintain, Is only jest To make that place uz strong uz the rest.
Page 107 - ... of his wife, was to take gun in hand and stroll away into the woods. Here he would sometimes seat himself at the foot of a tree, and share the contents of his wallet with Wolf, with whom he sympathized as a fellowsufferer in persecution. "Poor Wolf...
Page 116 - Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar Which the same I am free to maintain.
Page 157 - A fireplace filled the room's one side With half a cord o' wood in There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'. The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest, bless her, An' leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser.
Page 110 - He grieved to give up his dog and gun ; he dreaded to meet his wife ; but it would not do to starve among the mountains. He shook his head, shouldered the rusty firelock, and with a heart full of trouble and anxiety turned his steps homeward. As he approached the village he met a number of people...
Page 93 - naow she'll dew!" Do! I tell you, I rather guess She was a wonder, and nothing less! Colts grew horses, beards turned gray, Deacon and deaconess dropped away, Children and grandchildren where were they? But there stood the stout old one-hoss shay As fresh as on Lisbon-earthquake-day! EIGHTEEN HUNDRED; it came and found The Deacon's masterpiece strong and sound. Eighteen hundred increased by ten; "Hahnsum kerridge
Page 106 - Times grew worse and worse with Rip Van Winkle as years of matrimony rolled on ; a tart temper never mellows with age, and a sharp tongue is the only edged tool that grows keener with constant use.

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