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Murray: Andrew MCrie
Of many more gory than he—
And neither visits to foreign coasts,
Nor tonics, can ever set free
Two well-known Profs from the haunting wraith
Of the injured Andrew M'Crie.
For at night, as they dream, they frequenJbly scream,
'Have mercy, Mr M'Crie!'
And at morn they will rise with bloodshot eyes,
And the very first thing they will see,
When they dare to descend to their coffee and rolls,
Sitting down on the scuttle, the scuttle of coals,
With a volume of notes on its knee,
Is the spectre of Andrew M'Crie.
ROBERT MURRAY
THE CRIMES OF LIZZIE BORDEN
Lizzie Borden with an axe,
Hit her father forty whacks,
When she saw what she had done,
She hit her mother forty-one.
I USED TO LOVE MY GARDEN
ANON
I used to love my garden
But now my love is dead
For I found a bachelor's button
In black-eyed Susan's bed.
c. p. SAWYER
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