Lord of the tempest, pray refrain From leveling this church again. Now in its doom, as so you've willed it, We acquiesce. But you'll rebuild it.
A BULLETIN.
'Lothario is very low,' So all the doctors tell. Nay, nay, not so—he will be, though, If ever he get well.
FROM THE MINUTES.
When, with the force of a ram that discharges its ponderous body Straight at the rear elevation of the luckless culler of simples, The foot of Herculean Kilgore—statesman of surname suggestive Or carnage unspeakable!—lit like a missile prodigious Upon the Congressional door with a monstrous and mighty momentum, Causing that vain ineffective bar to political freedom To fly from its hinges, effacing the nasal excrescence of Dingley, That luckless one, decently veiling the ruin with ready bandanna, Lamented the loss of his eminence, sadly with sobs as follows: 'Ah, why was I ever elected to the halls of legislation, So soon to be shown the door with pitiless emphasis? Truly, I've leaned on a broken Reed, and the same has gone back on me meanly. Where now is my prominence, erstwhile in council conspicuous, patent? Alas, I did never before understand what I now see clearly, To wit, that Democracy tends to level all human distinctions!' His fate so untoward and sad the Pine-tree statesman, bewailing, Stood in the corridor there while Democrats freed from confinement Came trooping forth from the chamber, dissembling all, as they passed him, Hilarious sentiments painful indeed to observe, and remarking: 'O friend and colleague of the Speaker, what ails the unjoyous proboscis?'
WOMAN IN POLITICS.
What, madam, run for School Director? You? And want my vote and influence? Well, well, That beats me! Gad! where are we drifting to? In all my life I never have heard tell Of such sublime presumption, and I smell A nigger in the fence! Excuse me, madam; We statesmen sometimes speak like the old Adam. But now you mention it—well, well, who knows? We might, that's certain, give the sex a show. I have a cousin—teacher. I suppose If I stand in and you 're elected—no? You'll make no bargains? That's a pretty go! But understand that school administration Belongs to Politics, not Education. We'll pass the teacher deal; but it were wise To understand each other at the start. You know my business—books and school supplies; You'd hardly, if elected, have the heart Some small advantage to deny me—part Of all my profits to be yours. What? Stealing? Please don't express yourself with so much feeling. You pain me, truly. Now one question more. Suppose a fair young man should ask a place As teacher—would you (pardon) shut the door Of the Department in his handsome face Until—I know not how to put the case— Would you extort a kiss to pay your favor? Good Lord! you laugh? I thought the matter graver. Well, well, we can't do business, I suspect: A woman has no head for useful tricks. My profitable offers you reject And will not promise anything to fix The opposition. That's not politics. Good morning. Stay—I'm chaffing you, conceitedly. Madam, I mean to vote for you—repeatedly.
