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About The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 10, 1894)
14 THE COURIER GENE FIEfoD'S PbATFORM. SONGS OF SERENADE. I am six feet in height; am of spare build, weigh 160 pounds, and have shocking taste in dress. But I like to hare well-dressed peo ple about me. My eyes are blue, my complexion is pale, my face is Bhaven and I incline to baldness. It is only when I look and see how young and fair and sweet my wife is that I hare a good opinion of myself. 1 am fond of the companionship of women, and I have no uncon querable prejudice against feminine beauty. I recall with pride that in twenty two years of active journalism I hare always written iu roverential praise of womankind. I favor early marriage. I am fund of the quaint and curious in every line. 1 am very fond of dns. birds, and all small pets a passion not approved of by my wife. My favorite flower is the carnation. My favorites in fiction aro Hawthorne's "Scarlet Letter," "Don Quixote" and "Pilgrim's Progress.' 1 greatly love Hans Christian Andersen's Tales, and I am deeply interested in folklore and fairy tales. I believe in ghosts, and witches and fairies. I should like to own a big astronomical telescojMj and a 24-tune music box. I adore dolls. My favorite hymn is "Bounding Billows. My heroes in history are Martin Luther, Mme. Lamballe, Abraham Lincoln; my favorite !oemB are Koerner's "Battle Prayer," Wordsworth's "We Are Sev en," Newman's "Lead, Kindly Light," Luther's Hymn, Schiller's "The Diver," Horace's "Fons Bandusiae." and Burns' "Cotter's Sat urday Night" I dislike Dante and Byron. I should like to have known Jeremiah, the Prophet, old man Poggio, Horace, Walter Scott, Bonaparte, Hawthorne, Mme. Sontag, Sir John Herschel, Hans Andersen. My favorite actor is Henry Irving; actress, Mme. Modjeska. I dislike "politics" so called. I should like to have the privilege of vot ing extended to women. I am unalterably oppos ed to capital punishment. I favor a system of pen sions for noble services in literature, art. science, etc I approve of com pulsory education. I be lieve in churches and schools. I hate war, armies, soldiers, guns and fireworks. If I could have my way, I should make the abuse of horses, doira 1. Auctioneer What is bid for this and cattle a penal offense, piano? Going ! going ! going ! (you can't I should abolish all dog open it;the key's lost) going! going! Sold iawB and dog catchers, for two-fifty. Next!!! r '- One night beneath my window, when The stars were bright above, The music of a mandolin. Blent with a lay of love, Came stealing through the stillness like The balmy breath of spring; .;' . I opened up my window blinds ' - And heard a singer sing: "Cupid ie an archer, and his arrow's ever set, And swift and sure the arrow flies, as from a falconet; His bow is ever trusty and his aim is ever true. Be wary of the archer when his arrow's aimed at you !" At first I only lingered there To listen for a while, And thought the singer only sang The hours to beguile. " "" My heart began to tremble with - j The touch of every string. I opened wide my window blinds And heard the singer sing: "Cupid is an archer, and his arrow's ever set, And swift and sure the arrow flies, as from a falconet; His bow is ever trusty and his aim is ever true. Be wary of the archer when his arrow's aimed at you !' The weary day I'm waiting for The twilight shades to fall, And where the tangled woodland waves -, . I hear the lone dove call. ' , The song of running brooklets and A thousand birds a-wing My eager ears will hear not, When my love begins to sing: "Cupid is an archer, and his arrow's ever set, And swift and sure the arrow flies as f-om a falconet; His bow is ever trusty and his aim is ever true. Be wary of the archer when his bow is aimed at you !'' Cy Warman. IN THE DAYS OF DIVORCES. He Will you be my wife some time this year ? She I will. But I can't anpwer for any time later than that. HOW IT WORKS. The tippling farmer plants his corn, And though the crop be slim, He turnB it into golden juice, And then his corn plants him. 2. Mr. Short Well, Mary, as long as the key's lost, I'll open it with this crowbar. 3. Funny it doesn't open. i. BANG!!! -. A Y r