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Poems of Puncture - Amanda McKittrick Ros · Self-Help Library

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  Speaker 1: Section one of Poems of Puncture. This is a LibriVox recording.
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  Speaker 1: All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
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  Speaker 1: information ore to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Poems
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  Speaker 1: of Puncture by Amanda mc kittrick Ross preface met for
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  Speaker 1: LibriVox dot org. Banyugate novelist. Some will damn me till
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  Speaker 1: all's no more. Others curse as ne'er before. Some will
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  Speaker 1: stroke my back for joy that I my pen did
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  Speaker 1: thus employ. But ere you damn or curse or stroke.
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  Speaker 1: Just treat my verses as a joke. And if the
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  Speaker 1: cuddy brained can't see where lies the joke, just think
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  Speaker 1: of me. End of poem. This recording is in the
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  Speaker 1: public domain. Dedication by Amanda mc kittrick Ross read for
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  Speaker 1: LibriVox dot org. Banugate novelist. To him who is most charitable, truthful,
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  Speaker 1: kind and true, whose life is spent in doing good,
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  Speaker 1: to him, her and you, to him whose proud old
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  Speaker 1: name is loved in every home and nook in Antrim's
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  Speaker 1: ancient county. I dedicate my book and of poem. This
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  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. Defense by Amanda mc
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  Speaker 1: kittrick ross Read for LibriVox dot Org, Banugate novelist in
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  Speaker 1: rain or drought, sunshine or thaar women for men would
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  Speaker 1: break the law, So why should irene by folk be cursed?
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  Speaker 1: She wasn't the last, She isn't the first who stole
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  Speaker 1: away from her law bound chief to gratify that which
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  Speaker 1: classed her thief. For too many lovers make a ah of
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  Speaker 1: the saintliest wife, a man eer war for clammy passion.
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  Speaker 1: They damn God's law, daunted at nothing, void of awe,
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  Speaker 1: where sexes seek and genders quell Heaven's forgotten hugged is
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  Speaker 1: hell Written eighteen hundred and ninety eight, end of poem.
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  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. A Limb of
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  Speaker 1: Law by Amanda mc kittrick ross read for Librifhoks dot
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  Speaker 1: Org by Newgate novelist. Jordie was a lawyer, bold with wig,
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  Speaker 1: sleek and brown. He wore to cope with his defects.
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  Speaker 1: A horrid, hairless crown, a face all lit with laughter.
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  Speaker 1: Were your purse fat and full? But show to him
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  Speaker 1: a wrinkled one. Then Jordie grew quite cool, like all
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  Speaker 1: his brother Bubbly's. He loved your lucre well, so long
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  Speaker 1: as it he pocketed, you then could go to un
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  Speaker 1: Old Jordie loved to stuff his pouch with guineas thick
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  Speaker 1: or thin, to guard against a future state he knew
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  Speaker 1: awaited him. His huge white tusks were false ones to
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  Speaker 1: match the wig he wore. His heart was likewise ditto,
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  Speaker 1: deception to the core. His tongue was oiled with cunning,
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  Speaker 1: his eyes cased round with fraud. His actions solved the problem.
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  Speaker 1: I don't believe in God. Very snotty was Old Jordy
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  Speaker 1: and pompous to a pea. He liked the folk to
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  Speaker 1: honor him, pay homage to a tea. If once his
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  Speaker 1: coins you trampled on revenge, he'd show you then the
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  Speaker 1: wicked of the wickedest, the beastliest of men. Presumption, pride,
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  Speaker 1: pomposity were traits he tightly hugged. Old Jordy felt so
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  Speaker 1: sure one day he would be doubtless dubbed. But Alas
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  Speaker 1: Alas died did this ass into the grave, was hurled
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  Speaker 1: without title, tear or tremor. To face another world. He's
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  Speaker 1: off to join a regiment of legal rascals there where
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  Speaker 1: conscience will him master. While reveling in Hell's flare four
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  Speaker 1: Never will the law bum roost on Heaven's rung, to
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  Speaker 1: dirty on the saint below ding Dong Dung, written eighteen
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  Speaker 1: hundred eighty one, end of poem. This recording is in
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  Speaker 1: the public domain. Mickey monkey Face mac Blear by Amanda
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  Speaker 1: mc kittrick Ross read for LibriVox dot org by Newgate
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  Speaker 1: Novelist Readers, Did you ever hear of Mickey monkey Face
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  Speaker 1: mac Blear? Six feet and a half of lies and fraud?
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  Speaker 1: Tend bob to the pound? One devil, no god, a
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  Speaker 1: legal log who would grab your gold and for which
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  Speaker 1: he'd sell his soul. I'm told he'd strip your pocket
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  Speaker 1: as well as mine, and tamper with your hum and wine.
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  Speaker 1: His hair is bleached with a downy crown. His lugs
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  Speaker 1: are small, thatched round and round with little tufts of
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  Speaker 1: a dirty hue. But that's no matter to me or you.
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  Speaker 1: This lengthy tool has wee gray eyes away far back
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  Speaker 1: from earth and sky, heavily fringed with coarse, rough hair,
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  Speaker 1: labeling him a human bear. His snout is long with
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  Speaker 1: a flatish top, lined inside with a slimy crop, His
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  Speaker 1: mouth like a slit in a money box portrays his
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  Speaker 1: kindred to a fox. From his chin there droops a
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  Speaker 1: greasy beerd goat like in hue and style. I've heard
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  Speaker 1: his wrinkled neck is long and thin. To see it,
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  Speaker 1: your sight must be and trim. His legs are fleshless
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  Speaker 1: props of bone ending in paddlers, always prone to corns
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  Speaker 1: and bunions. By the score of crooked joints, he has
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  Speaker 1: them galore. These together with heart and hand, form what
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  Speaker 1: you'd call a man. For further proof, well, I blush
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  Speaker 1: to tell my readers now must go to oh were it?
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  Speaker 2: In?
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  Speaker 1: Eighteen hundred and eighty four end of poem. This recording
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  Speaker 1: is in the public domain. The Old Windmill by Amanda
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  Speaker 1: mc kittrick Ross read for Librevox dot Org by Newgate novelist.
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  Speaker 1: Down by the drafts of an old windmill, there sat
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  Speaker 1: on a ledge of stone, a middle aged, fat faced,
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  Speaker 1: clumsy man with a voice you'd call his own. His
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  Speaker 1: hair was bwy and coarse as straw. His face was
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  Speaker 1: a sunburnt tan. His eyes were at war with each other.
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  Speaker 1: I saw he told me his name was Sam. I've
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  Speaker 1: searched quoth he the country wide for friends whom I
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  Speaker 1: used to know, And here am I by this old
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  Speaker 1: windmill without either friend or foe. Black death hath claimed
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  Speaker 1: my kith and kin, that treacherous foe of fate. Now
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  Speaker 1: I'm left bereft to plow through life with no one
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  Speaker 1: to love or hate. Tis strange I've strayed to this
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  Speaker 1: old windmill to meet such a handsome maiden. My travels
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  Speaker 1: ne'er to me have shown one hawf with such beauty laden.
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  Speaker 1: Oh say, will you join your life with mine? Say?
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  Speaker 1: Could ye love me? Ever? By God? If you do,
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  Speaker 1: I swear to night till death, we will never sever.
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  Speaker 1: His eyes grew bright with a flame of light, yet
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  Speaker 1: filled again with pity. As I stretched my hand to
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  Speaker 1: say good night, ere I moved towards the city. Ah,
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  Speaker 1: sweetest angel, these eyes e'er saw you'll never go and
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  Speaker 1: leave me with a heart all pricked with pangs of throw. Ah, maiden, dear,
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  Speaker 1: don't grieve me haunted, for I with your face, I'll
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  Speaker 1: be stuccoed with rarest charm. Just say you'll love me, then,
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  Speaker 1: God above me, curse me if I thee harm. Though
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  Speaker 1: I'm clad in rags and tatters, torn, yet these cover
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  Speaker 1: as soul of honor and a heart of joy, if
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  Speaker 1: you me employ to be its worthy donor. I am
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  Speaker 1: poor of purse, pray, is this a curse? But once
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  Speaker 1: it seem'd with plenty, then I was press'd to dine
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  Speaker 1: with the king. Now that my means are scanty, all
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  Speaker 1: seems so changed, since fate me maimed and robb'd me
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  Speaker 1: of costly pleasure. There are now no dames with perfumed
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  Speaker 1: names to come and steal my treasure. Driven here by
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  Speaker 1: the steed of fate. Oh God, give me strength to mutter,
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  Speaker 1: darling my own, my heaven, my earth. See how I
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  Speaker 1: shake and flutter, Come into my arms, O my charge
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  Speaker 1: of charms. Till I clasp and kiss you ever tell
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  Speaker 1: me you love me, Then heaven above me I will
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  Speaker 1: seal my bold endeavor. Then we swayed and swooned, aye
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  Speaker 1: and honeymooned and plighted our troth together, for bad or good,
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  Speaker 1: we have eaten the food digested in every weather. Tis lady, lightheart.
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  Speaker 1: Now I pose twas a lord. I wedded Shirley, who
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  Speaker 1: feigned a beggar to test my love the love of yours,
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  Speaker 1: so truly written eighteen hundred and eighty seven, end of poem.
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  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. A Wish by
• 11:45
  Speaker 1: Amanda mc kittrick Ross, read for LibriVox dot Org by
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  Speaker 1: Newgate novelist. I wish you all a diamond dear each day,
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  Speaker 1: a golden god of cheer, a silver pipe to smoke
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  Speaker 1: quite handy, a copper flask well filled with brandy. Don't
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  Speaker 1: let these make you unruly, while ever I remain thine
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  Speaker 1: truly written eighteen hundred and seventy five, end of poem.
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  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. The Ugliest Brute
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  Speaker 1: in Britain by Amanda McKittrick Ross read for LibriVox dot
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  Speaker 1: Org by Newgate novelist. Oh bully Rag, Oh bully rag,
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  Speaker 1: A boasty, brainless, empty gag. You fancy you're a clever fellow,
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  Speaker 1: because amongst the brutes you bellow tis generally the low
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  Speaker 1: bred hound who barks and makes the biggest sound. For
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  Speaker 1: one who's my degree is good will not acknowledge aught
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  Speaker 1: that's rude. As a shell of law you pose, I
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  Speaker 1: hear battling for a lower sphere tis then you'll meet
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  Speaker 1: your pal. So dear nicky monkey face mac blear, who
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  Speaker 1: shovels coke to the reverend Bloke, because he gave him
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  Speaker 1: lots of rope to right the folk he robbed in town,
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  Speaker 1: evading thus the clergy's frown. May I here describe this
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  Speaker 1: scathing scribe who lives by tarnishing your hide. His coat
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  Speaker 1: tails ever on the swag while carrying his old stinking bag.
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  Speaker 1: How he struts on with its filthy handle grasped by
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  Speaker 1: his paw of vice and scandal, as if bound for Heaven,
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  Speaker 1: sweet and sainted, though with hell he's best acquainted. He's
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  Speaker 1: low of flesh and high of bone, with heart as
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  Speaker 1: callous as a stone, shoulders square and a crop of
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  Speaker 1: hair just like my old chestnut mare. A forehead low
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  Speaker 1: and pencil marked about the brows to make them arched.
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  Speaker 1: A pair of eyes a cloudy gray, so like a pig's.
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  Speaker 1: The folk, I'll say, one star is square, shaped like
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  Speaker 1: a goat's, the other brother to a stoat's. Between the
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  Speaker 1: cheeks there shoots a hose short with two spouts you'd
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  Speaker 1: call a nose. His blood is dirty, poor, and muddy,
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  Speaker 1: not like the blood of anybody producing sometimes tiny creepers,
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  Speaker 1: amusing to all eager peepers. His upper lip is sunken
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  Speaker 1: in to cover rotten pegs within his chin. He cocks
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  Speaker 1: up when he's spouting, shaking his pow when he is shouting,
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  Speaker 1: thinking all such traits are clever as he fights his
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  Speaker 1: flimsy cases, ever, fortifying him a donkey like many another
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  Speaker 1: brother flunky. His neck is long and a rammy yellow,
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  Speaker 1: which helps to lengthen this bass fellow. His lugs are
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  Speaker 1: large and lie in line with a snout that God
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  Speaker 1: forbid twas mine. His head, shaped like a rotten pair,
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  Speaker 1: has bumps stuck round it here and there, stuffed with
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  Speaker 1: muddy brains and batter with a slit in front whence
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  Speaker 1: oozes clatter. His arms are lengthy, bony wattles, and at
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  Speaker 1: a sail would go as chattels a body shooting forth
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  Speaker 1: in branches, backed up by two poor, dirty haunches. While
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  Speaker 1: a portion of it don't despise, it makes young generations
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  Speaker 1: rise to bless or curse the lustful donor who prides
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  Speaker 1: in being called its owner. On his chill blained feet,
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  Speaker 1: he often hobbles overwear his brother cobbles, who's a brick
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  Speaker 1: at boring holes in leather and closing them in every
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  Speaker 1: weather for patching. Wow, well you couldn't match him. Like
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  Speaker 1: Bully Rag, you've got to watch him and like his
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  Speaker 1: legal brother Noodle Jinx, the god of Cobbler Doodle readers one,
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  Speaker 1: and I'll beware of this and every legal bear. His
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  Speaker 1: hobby is to catch all clowns who don't know black
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  Speaker 1: from white or brown. If perchance you are too clever,
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  Speaker 1: soon they'll from your service sever But if you don't
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  Speaker 1: know be from ben, they'll play whack at your silver. Then, now,
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  Speaker 1: Bully Rag, you vulgar Gag, don't shake so much your
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  Speaker 1: empty head, for you'll soon find to every mind your
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  Speaker 1: flunts are but a puff of wind that stinks the
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  Speaker 1: air when you are there, and sickens all your brother bears.
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  Speaker 1: Take my advice and go to grass and graze like
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  Speaker 1: any other ass. You'll be at home amongst the brutes.
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  Speaker 1: There's nothing better, will you suit than braying with a
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  Speaker 1: donkey brother out amongst the grass and heather, unrefined for
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  Speaker 1: shed or shanty on my soul. You'll look right cantie.
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  Speaker 1: If you fail to like it, well go where your
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  Speaker 1: legal brothers. Dwell written eighteen hundred and eighty six and
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  Speaker 1: a poem. This recording is in the public domain. Fanny
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  Speaker 1: Malone by Amanda mc kittrick Ross read for Lebrivox dottalg By,
• 17:40
  Speaker 1: Newgate novelist. There lived on a mountain side a maid
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  Speaker 1: I once well knew. Her name was Fanny Malone, who
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  Speaker 1: mostly dressed in blue when I was but a school girl.
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  Speaker 1: She was trim and tall, older than I, bolder than I,
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  Speaker 1: and wore a silken shawl. The cottage Fanny lived in
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  Speaker 1: was thatched with heather brown, far up a lonely mountain,
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  Speaker 1: away from any town. Since ever, I remember, she always
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  Speaker 1: lived alone, Queen of the mountain district she many acres owned.
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  Speaker 1: Twas a snowy night in winter, the flakes fell soft
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  Speaker 1: and fast, covering all the country with a mantle white
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  Speaker 1: and vast. The light in Fanny's window shone steadily around
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  Speaker 1: to guide the lonely traveler whose step was lost to sound. Hark,
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  Speaker 1: there's the stroke of midnight. I must to bed repair.
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  Speaker 1: Fanny spake these words aloud, as nobody was there. She
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  Speaker 1: reached forth for the candle, when lo she saw a
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  Speaker 1: face against the pane, before she drew the window blind across.
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  Speaker 1: Ah Madam, don't be frightened, I have wandered lost my
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  Speaker 1: way I saw your joyful light shine forth. Please let
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  Speaker 1: me in. I pray. I'm faint and weary walking. My
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  Speaker 1: heart is torn and sad. If you do not let
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  Speaker 1: me in, sweet maid, I feel I'm going mad. I'm
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  Speaker 1: a major in the army under our blessed Queen. I've
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  Speaker 1: paid her homage, kissed her hand, her aid de camp
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  Speaker 1: have been. I belong to Castlewellyn, not very far from here.
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  Speaker 1: God grant me strength to reach it. But this I
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  Speaker 1: greatly fear. I'll neither hurt nor harm you, sweet maid
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  Speaker 1: of beauty. Great if only me you shelter from such choking,
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  Speaker 1: blinding flakes. I'll pay you for your trouble. I'll shield
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  Speaker 1: you from all fear. If your door to me you open,
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  Speaker 1: at which I'm now so near. Ah, Sir, your words,
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  Speaker 1: you've spoken well. But I'm a lonely maid. I've lived
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  Speaker 1: for well nigh twenty years upon this mountain side. My
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  Speaker 1: door I've never opened once. After night's dark pall was
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  Speaker 1: spread around this cottage ground, my castle. Dear, my awe.
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  Speaker 1: I was left a little orphan in the care of
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  Speaker 1: Rosy Ray, whose mother was an actress to sing and
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  Speaker 1: dance and play. She died when I was thirteen years
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  Speaker 1: exactly two a week. Since then, I've lived here quite alone.
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  Speaker 1: Such life, I find a treat. I've read and read
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  Speaker 1: of men like you who shelter, bought and got upon
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  Speaker 1: a lonely mountain track when death they only sought. So pray.
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  Speaker 1: Don't urge upon me to ope to you my door.
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  Speaker 1: I'm sorry to refuse you, but don't request me more.
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  Speaker 1: Ah madam, I am dying cold and hunger me accost.
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  Speaker 1: If you fail to give me shelter upon my word,
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  Speaker 1: I'm lost. I don't mind so much the body, it
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  Speaker 1: will very soon decay, But I have got a soul
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  Speaker 1: to save for ever and for aye. I've sown my
• 20:51
  Speaker 1: seeds of wildness. I'm reaping them just now. I wish
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  Speaker 1: to be repentant. Oh, can you tell me how my
• 20:59
  Speaker 1: strength this ebbing from me? God's angry with me. Still,
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  Speaker 1: I'll crave for time, for things sublime, all evil thoughts
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  Speaker 1: to kill. Too late, too late, our words I hate.
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  Speaker 1: But there might still be time for me to seek
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  Speaker 1: forgiveness for every sin and crime. I crave your leave
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  Speaker 1: to enter. Pray shelter me to night, tis aid. I
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  Speaker 1: want my sins me haunt O God, my wrongs, thou right,
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  Speaker 1: don't treat me as a ruffian. I'm honor to the core.
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  Speaker 1: If you have any sympathy, you'll open wide your door.
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  Speaker 1: I ask of you no favor without a due reward.
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  Speaker 1: I only wish to die where some one will this body. God,
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  Speaker 1: My soul seems soiled and dirty to you. I make
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  Speaker 1: it known, and in this state can't enter God's holy,
• 21:51
  Speaker 1: spotless home. I hear its tired echo against this ear
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  Speaker 1: of woe. Bid farewell to my body in tones of
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  Speaker 1: hopeless throe. Ah, for God's sake, hear me, maiden, give
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  Speaker 1: me the aid I ask. I really can no further go.
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  Speaker 1: My limbs refuse the task. Is there no pity in
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  Speaker 1: your heart? Pray? Is it one of steel? Tomorrow it
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  Speaker 1: will be too late. I make my last appeal. If
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  Speaker 1: I could reach my mother, she'd throw open wide her door.
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  Speaker 1: My father me would welcome as oft he did before.
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  Speaker 1: But too late. It is the echo that rings within
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  Speaker 1: my ear. If you fail to give me shelter or
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  Speaker 1: my words of pity, fear, Ah, sir, don't think me cruel,
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  Speaker 1: but I dread the words of man. I live alone,
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  Speaker 1: no one I own nor seek I heart or hand.
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  Speaker 1: If I perchance you shelter, God knows what sort of
• 22:44
  Speaker 1: end would happen to a lonely maid without a single friend.
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  Speaker 1: You may be bright as bravery, you may be kind
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  Speaker 1: and true, but I have read so much of men
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  Speaker 1: I have no faith in you. So move away, dear stranger.
• 22:58
  Speaker 1: I'll show you down the hill, and again I'll place
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  Speaker 1: my candle on the little window sill. No sound came
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  Speaker 1: ever after, But just at dawn next day I beheld
• 23:09
  Speaker 1: a crowd of people not very far away, while on
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  Speaker 1: the ground there did abound a heap of whitest snow,
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  Speaker 1: beneath which lay the body of Major Matman Row. Twas
• 23:21
  Speaker 1: then my conscience stabbed me. All seemed to me so dark,
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  Speaker 1: this precious soul I might have saved, now lay both
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  Speaker 1: cold and stark. His pleading words, I think I hear.
• 23:31
  Speaker 1: I see that face so white against the little window
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  Speaker 1: pane upon that snowy night. Readers, if ever you are
• 23:40
  Speaker 1: asked to do a kindly deed, go render all the
• 23:44
  Speaker 1: help you can to any one in need. For bear
• 23:47
  Speaker 1: in mind the day will dawn when some one's aid
• 23:50
  Speaker 1: you'll want ah. Never let the words too late. Your
• 23:55
  Speaker 1: conscience ever Haunt writ in eighteen hundred and seven eight
• 24:02
  Speaker 1: and of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 24:13
  Speaker 1: Rover by Amanda Macittrick Ross red for LibriVox dot Org
• 24:22
  Speaker 1: by Newgate novelist. Rover is a pretty dog with glossy,
• 24:29
  Speaker 1: glossy skin. He watches like the devil you, me and him.
• 24:35
  Speaker 1: His eyes would twinner. Preacher's always on the move. His
• 24:40
  Speaker 1: face is grave and saddened, which any one can prove.
• 24:44
  Speaker 1: Rover is a pretty dog. He watches all the folk
• 24:48
  Speaker 1: who stumps along the footpath, while some his coat will stroke.
• 24:53
  Speaker 1: Let one who is a prowler be seen about or
• 24:56
  Speaker 1: near tis. Then he turns out growler. But this is
• 25:01
  Speaker 1: nothing queer. Rover is a pretty dog, despite his grayish face.
• 25:07
  Speaker 1: Like me, he once was younger and quicker in the pace.
• 25:11
  Speaker 1: His breast is quite a picture down which is traced
• 25:15
  Speaker 1: a line of hair so white and glossy. This little
• 25:19
  Speaker 1: dog of mine, Rover is a pretty dog. He loves
• 25:23
  Speaker 1: his master's tread. Twould do you good to hear him
• 25:27
  Speaker 1: beg a bit of bread? He does the thing so
• 25:30
  Speaker 1: canty you've got to laugh aloud. For though he's only
• 25:35
  Speaker 1: a dog, he's really very proud. Rover is a pretty dog.
• 25:40
  Speaker 1: He wags his tail with glee as the cups and
• 25:43
  Speaker 1: saucers rattle. He knows he's in for tea. Just offer
• 25:47
  Speaker 1: this infusion to Rover without cream. He'll sniff all o'er
• 25:52
  Speaker 1: his platter and very angry seem. Rover is a pretty dog.
• 25:58
  Speaker 1: He knows what people say. Scold him, then he droops
• 26:01
  Speaker 1: his head and shyly walks away. Praise him, and he waltzes.
• 26:06
  Speaker 1: Write about your feet. Talk to him. He'll talk to
• 26:10
  Speaker 1: you in groaning accents. Sweet. Rover is a pretty dog.
• 26:16
  Speaker 1: Could teach the human creature love in all its many forms.
• 26:20
  Speaker 1: He's love in every feature. This world would be a
• 26:24
  Speaker 1: pleasure to all within its rim, if to a certain
• 26:28
  Speaker 1: extent its folk would follow him. Rover is a pretty dog.
• 26:34
  Speaker 1: He'll chase, dull care away with kindness. He will conquer
• 26:39
  Speaker 1: no matter what you say beat him. He will dawn
• 26:43
  Speaker 1: a frown, then reach you his wee paw, which means, oh,
• 26:47
  Speaker 1: I'll forgive you. This is the better law. Rover is
• 26:52
  Speaker 1: a pretty dog. His ways most folks should follow obedience personified.
• 26:58
  Speaker 1: None of his ways are hollow. He'll lick the hand
• 27:02
  Speaker 1: that harms him. Readers, do thou the same. He likewise
• 27:08
  Speaker 1: will caress you if him you wrongly blame. Rover is
• 27:13
  Speaker 1: a pretty dog. I'd rather have him far than human
• 27:16
  Speaker 1: creatures one might meet, whose words are always war, whose
• 27:21
  Speaker 1: acts are mean and meddling, and give the judice dart.
• 27:27
  Speaker 1: Every time they meet you, they try to stab your heart.
• 27:32
  Speaker 1: Rover is a pretty dog. He has a winning way,
• 27:36
  Speaker 1: you see. It's not the gifted who kindest things do
• 27:39
  Speaker 1: say for Rover, though he's speechless of love. You'd learn
• 27:44
  Speaker 1: far more from him, though only a dog, than from
• 27:49
  Speaker 1: any social ahem written nineteen hundred and two and of poem.
• 28:00
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. Reverend Goliath gin
• 28:12
  Speaker 1: Bottle by Amanda mc kittrick Ross, read for LibriVox dot org, Bine,
• 28:17
  Speaker 1: Newgate novelist. His reverence looks big, but he never looks
• 28:24
  Speaker 1: trig with a face like a fire brick, whitish and long.
• 28:28
  Speaker 1: His globes are like holes you would see in a
• 28:31
  Speaker 1: blanket when burned round and wide by a fire that's strong.
• 28:37
  Speaker 1: His forehead is flat, but no matter for that. On
• 28:40
  Speaker 1: itself are two hair brushes turned up on end, just
• 28:44
  Speaker 1: like you'd see on an old Japanese. So these gopher
• 28:48
  Speaker 1: brows on my clergyman friend. His hair was once blacker,
• 28:52
  Speaker 1: but now it is checkered, which if chipp'd off and woven,
• 28:56
  Speaker 1: would make a wee shawl. He could dawn on a Sunday,
• 29:00
  Speaker 1: for sure. It's the fashion for clergy to spout in
• 29:03
  Speaker 1: a bit over all. His neck, like a bullock's, gets
• 29:08
  Speaker 1: streaked like a tulip when bawling forth phrases of taunt
• 29:12
  Speaker 1: crammed with jeer, impressing thee ginnies who listen his whinnies
• 29:17
  Speaker 1: that he is the bully will rule them with fear.
• 29:24
  Speaker 1: This footstool of foppery crammed with black mockery is a
• 29:28
  Speaker 1: traitor to Christ, to his people, his God. He assumes
• 29:32
  Speaker 1: the black ensign as a token or symbol that he
• 29:35
  Speaker 1: is a Christian, But alas he's a fraud, So don't
• 29:40
  Speaker 1: be deceived in this mock limb of Saintdom. Who'd succor
• 29:43
  Speaker 1: the villain, the cheat, and the rogue, And then the
• 29:46
  Speaker 1: next moment he'd turn and disown it and swear he
• 29:49
  Speaker 1: detested the same ones. By God, He's a tyrant by nature.
• 29:55
  Speaker 1: In every feature in home or in pulpit the tyranny's there.
• 30:00
  Speaker 1: I've known him to pitch his poor wife out at
• 30:02
  Speaker 1: midnight because her we fortune she'd not with him share.
• 30:07
  Speaker 1: Tis strange he is licensed to preach Christianity when a
• 30:11
  Speaker 1: trait of it isn't within his foul breast. Tis a
• 30:14
  Speaker 1: sin to behold such a viper of vanity set apart
• 30:18
  Speaker 1: to expound Jehovah's behest. So readers, beware of this big
• 30:24
  Speaker 1: holy snare who brays like a cuddy and growls like
• 30:28
  Speaker 1: a dog, who refuses to tell you there's only hell
• 30:31
  Speaker 1: for you if you fail in your duty to Christ
• 30:34
  Speaker 1: or your God. Arouse in your hundreds, go peel him
• 30:38
  Speaker 1: like onions, tear into tatters his garb of deceit, jeer him,
• 30:43
  Speaker 1: and sneer him, And never you fear him. But twenty
• 30:47
  Speaker 1: to one he will be to retreat to every soul
• 30:51
  Speaker 1: who peruses these verses. I hope when we meet on
• 30:55
  Speaker 1: the great throne on high, that you will be able
• 30:57
  Speaker 1: without foe, or cable to know so for a fact
• 31:00
  Speaker 1: where his reverence doth lie, And that will be down
• 31:04
  Speaker 1: with his old chum, the devil, whose ways he has
• 31:07
  Speaker 1: hugged as his actions do tell should he yell for
• 31:11
  Speaker 1: some water to me, it won't matter how I'll dance
• 31:14
  Speaker 1: up above when I see him in h ret In
• 31:20
  Speaker 1: eighteen hundred and eighty two, end of poem. This recording
• 31:26
  Speaker 1: is in the public domain to those whom The Shoe
• 31:35
  Speaker 1: fits by Amanda McKittrick Ross Readfolibrivox dot Org by Newgate novelist.
• 31:45
  Speaker 1: There's nothing in the world I hate like a drunken woman.
• 31:49
  Speaker 1: She drags herself so very low you couldn't call her human.
• 31:52
  Speaker 1: She rises mostly every day at sunrise, noon or night.
• 31:56
  Speaker 1: Her one and only thought is wears the drink to
• 31:59
  Speaker 1: make her tight. Tis mostly low bred mothers who love
• 32:03
  Speaker 1: their liquor, so nor is it to be wondered at
• 32:06
  Speaker 1: their mates would give a blow. For many a sober
• 32:10
  Speaker 1: husband who has a drunken wife would rather far be
• 32:13
  Speaker 1: dead than live with her in constant strife. Twere better
• 32:17
  Speaker 1: far that women would scorn strong drink to smell, and
• 32:21
  Speaker 1: thus evade preparing their sacred souls for hell, For it
• 32:25
  Speaker 1: very often happens that bipeds so inclined would practice tricks
• 32:30
  Speaker 1: more filthy than drinking too much wine. Ere long they grow,
• 32:34
  Speaker 1: regardless of God, Man or sin. The longer they do tipple,
• 32:39
  Speaker 1: their actions grow more grim. Such intoxicating drabbies should be
• 32:44
  Speaker 1: tied to a stake, their buttocks whipped with fishing hooks,
• 32:48
  Speaker 1: than frizzled on the grate. See how their dirty tartles
• 32:52
  Speaker 1: sweep the muddy way, their treaders stuck in sandals, mere
• 32:57
  Speaker 1: clods of dirty clay, hurrying to the gin shop after
• 33:01
  Speaker 1: they palm their shawls, then waddling home with drunken breaths
• 33:05
  Speaker 1: to fight with drunken trolls. Their children scabbed in bleary,
• 33:09
  Speaker 1: sit frozen on the step to watch their drunken mothers
• 33:13
  Speaker 1: swagger down the track. Then the cry of hunger rents
• 33:17
  Speaker 1: the stifled air. Oh mother, give us bread, for we've
• 33:21
  Speaker 1: got a pain down there, pointing to their stomachs, bawling
• 33:25
  Speaker 1: loud for food. Instead, these strumpets slap them when in
• 33:30
  Speaker 1: a drunken mood. God help the weary husbands who toil
• 33:35
  Speaker 1: hard all day, and when their work is ended, what
• 33:38
  Speaker 1: comfort have they pray? Ye Christians of the city, ye
• 33:44
  Speaker 1: boasters of the town, show by your acts of sympathy
• 33:48
  Speaker 1: you'll track the drunkard down reason with the fallen calm,
• 33:52
  Speaker 1: the angry, breast, sleek the hand that strikes you. This
• 33:57
  Speaker 1: is God's request. Show by your DearS of kindness, Show
• 34:01
  Speaker 1: by your words of love, you mean to stay their habits,
• 34:05
  Speaker 1: to prepare them for above Ah. The reward, the promise
• 34:10
  Speaker 1: to save a soul from hell. The joy twill bring
• 34:14
  Speaker 1: hereafter none but those can tell who made the greatest effort,
• 34:19
  Speaker 1: Who sacrificed the most to bring these drunken drabbies in
• 34:23
  Speaker 1: touch with Heaven's host tis then you'll be rewarded not
• 34:29
  Speaker 1: by flattering tongues, but by the choicest being who earth
• 34:34
  Speaker 1: from Heaven hung Written eighteen hundred and eighty end of poem.
• 34:42
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. The Spa Balin
• 34:53
  Speaker 1: a Hinch, County Down by Amanda Mukittrick Rass read for
• 34:59
  Speaker 1: the brivok dot Org Brangugate novelist. The prettiest little spot
• 35:06
  Speaker 1: on Earth or mortal ever saw, is a mile or
• 35:09
  Speaker 1: so from bell In a Hinch, and called by name
• 35:12
  Speaker 1: the Spa, a health resort of diamond type, where springs
• 35:16
  Speaker 1: abound galore. Once drink these crystal tonics, you'd ask for
• 35:20
  Speaker 1: nothing more. There You've got a whole divine in which
• 35:25
  Speaker 1: to sing and pray, which gratifies the human eye to
• 35:28
  Speaker 1: look at every day. Right at its back, there rears
• 35:32
  Speaker 1: a manse where lives the Holy mac, whose father Adam
• 35:36
  Speaker 1: owned us all. We can't deny this fact. South of
• 35:40
  Speaker 1: this hall of Goddom there stands a national school, where
• 35:45
  Speaker 1: little folk are taught to write and read and feel
• 35:48
  Speaker 1: the rule. Beyond all winds a labyrinth so intricate and
• 35:52
  Speaker 1: queer within you must not enter if possessed of any fear.
• 35:58
  Speaker 1: Its paths are strayed and crooked. They lead you here
• 36:01
  Speaker 1: and there. The more you try your exit, the deeper
• 36:05
  Speaker 1: gets the lair. For hours I've trodden on them. My
• 36:08
  Speaker 1: mind a bower of dread. Lest I should get be knighted,
• 36:12
  Speaker 1: and this labyrinth be my bed. Once enter it, your
• 36:16
  Speaker 1: do miscaste, unless a friend is nigh to lead you
• 36:19
  Speaker 1: in and out its crooks and save you many a
• 36:22
  Speaker 1: sigh should you chance its center to attain. A rustic
• 36:26
  Speaker 1: house abides, where the heart unfettered, tells its joys and
• 36:30
  Speaker 1: all its sorrow's hides. Twas there within this winding span
• 36:35
  Speaker 1: of art, love came to me. The day was fine
• 36:38
  Speaker 1: and sunny for both butterfly and bee I'd lost my
• 36:42
  Speaker 1: way when forward came a gentleman from town, who proffered
• 36:46
  Speaker 1: me assistance as he led me round and round. Its
• 36:50
  Speaker 1: rustic heart arrived at we sat down to chat and rest.
• 36:54
  Speaker 1: The moments crept to hours. Within this lover's nest, the
• 36:58
  Speaker 1: clouds of heaven at last began to spread their grayish
• 37:02
  Speaker 1: sails above this bower of rural worth. So many lovers hail.
• 37:08
  Speaker 1: We parted friends upon that day two lynks of love's
• 37:11
  Speaker 1: bright chain, which afterwards were soldered into one. For now
• 37:15
  Speaker 1: I reign as Missus Morris Munday of fame and fortune fair.
• 37:20
  Speaker 1: I'd stray within its nooks again to meet what I
• 37:23
  Speaker 1: met there. The spa is bounded on the north by
• 37:27
  Speaker 1: an hotel of old, but since its second baptism Hydro,
• 37:32
  Speaker 1: it's cold, I'm told. Its east is piebald, here and there,
• 37:36
  Speaker 1: with trees and houses small, ending in a villa built
• 37:40
  Speaker 1: which crowns the others all. Its southern wing is bounded
• 37:44
  Speaker 1: by this winding dream of old, whose zig zag interior
• 37:48
  Speaker 1: glad and sad tales oft has told. Along its west
• 37:52
  Speaker 1: stands nature, whose parasols so grand have often sheltered you
• 37:56
  Speaker 1: and me from soul's hot scorching hand. Two springs of
• 38:01
  Speaker 1: icy waters within its boundary lie one sulfur and one
• 38:05
  Speaker 1: iron to drink when you are dry. There also is
• 38:09
  Speaker 1: a ball room in which to dance and sing, and
• 38:12
  Speaker 1: play a game of cards or bridge, in fact, play anything.
• 38:17
  Speaker 1: Refreshments too, you'll find within this spacious room of note tis.
• 38:22
  Speaker 1: Here your wants are all supplied, from tea to tobler,
• 38:25
  Speaker 1: dote for whisky, wine or brandy. To get these wood
• 38:29
  Speaker 1: you pinch, you'd have to tramp to Walker's Hotel of Ballina. Hinch.
• 38:35
  Speaker 1: Take warning, then, my readers, when sickness tries you soar,
• 38:39
  Speaker 1: just pack your owls and off you go for health,
• 38:42
  Speaker 1: if nothing more, to the brightest little spot on earth.
• 38:46
  Speaker 1: So don't have doubt or dread. You'll ne'er regret a
• 38:49
  Speaker 1: visit to this healthy northern bed. You've got a decent
• 38:53
  Speaker 1: lodging house in old times called hotel, but under perfumed management,
• 38:58
  Speaker 1: Hydro just dues as well. So any of my patrons
• 39:03
  Speaker 1: who claim to be select and seek a change this
• 39:07
  Speaker 1: hydro will your comfort well. Protect your souls are soothed
• 39:12
  Speaker 1: on Sundays by sermons, choice and rare. Your lungs are
• 39:16
  Speaker 1: fed on week days with rairest purest air, your mind
• 39:20
  Speaker 1: becomes a bower of ease and goodly thought. Your strength
• 39:24
  Speaker 1: will increase daily, which to the spa you brought. Now
• 39:29
  Speaker 1: buck up, sickly sinners throughout this isle of Saints, repair
• 39:34
  Speaker 1: to where such bracing air will stay your grave complaints.
• 39:38
  Speaker 1: Think of the spa, dream of it. The thought is
• 39:41
  Speaker 1: not enough, Ah, you must go. It fattens you. The
• 39:46
  Speaker 1: spas the best of stuff. Written nineteen hundred seven, end
• 39:54
  Speaker 1: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Frank
• 40:06
  Speaker 1: Ferrard by Amanda M. Kittrick Ross read for LibriVox dot
• 40:12
  Speaker 1: Org by Newgate novelist. I married my wife at the altar,
• 40:18
  Speaker 1: arrayed in purest white, a pledge to all who were
• 40:23
  Speaker 1: present that her morals were all right. Little I dreamt
• 40:29
  Speaker 1: such a model of purity standing there would have given
• 40:33
  Speaker 1: to others the very thing which I alone should share.
• 40:38
  Speaker 1: She swore how she loved me, only me and me alone.
• 40:42
  Speaker 1: But in her years of girlhood man, she had never
• 40:46
  Speaker 1: known a myth. Our life to begin with a myth
• 40:51
  Speaker 1: during every hour. For now I know from her tainted lips.
• 40:57
  Speaker 1: I married a bruise aed flower, I got a divorce
• 41:01
  Speaker 1: and parted. Now we are as twain. I wouldn't accept
• 41:07
  Speaker 1: the world as a bribe and marry a woman again.
• 41:10
  Speaker 1: You might fathom the depth of the ocean, or touch
• 41:13
  Speaker 1: the northern Pole, but to fathom a woman's virtue, man
• 41:18
  Speaker 1: couldn't upon my soul. Written eighteen hundred and ninety end
• 41:28
  Speaker 1: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A
• 41:39
  Speaker 1: warning by Amanda mc kittrick Ross read for LibriVox dot
• 41:46
  Speaker 1: Org by Newgate Novelist. Some day, when I breathe my
• 41:53
  Speaker 1: last and bit farewell to you all. If I had
• 41:57
  Speaker 1: a fault, it will meet with a halt. When I
• 41:59
  Speaker 1: am beyond recall, the tongues of evil and spite will
• 42:04
  Speaker 1: cease reviling. Then the greatest enemies, when alive, will when dead,
• 42:10
  Speaker 1: be greatest friends. It won't matter a rap to me. Then,
• 42:15
  Speaker 1: when the mind is free from stab and the body
• 42:19
  Speaker 1: at rest in its moss lined nest, and the soul
• 42:23
  Speaker 1: in glory clad, how the tongues of the treacherous wag
• 42:29
  Speaker 1: their words will be lost in the air. Just throw
• 42:33
  Speaker 1: me your word of kindness now, for when dead, I
• 42:37
  Speaker 1: will not care. Ah, weep not for me when I
• 42:42
  Speaker 1: am gone, don't drop your false tears on my bier
• 42:47
  Speaker 1: for me. You weep not when I am alive, then
• 42:52
  Speaker 1: I'll not want your tear. Life would be lined with
• 42:56
  Speaker 1: more love and a longer life for us all if
• 43:00
  Speaker 1: you and such as you upon earth would spill less
• 43:04
  Speaker 1: bitter gall written nineteen hundred and two, end of poem.
• 43:13
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. Epitaph on Lady
• 43:24
  Speaker 1: Diana Duff by Amanda mc kittrick Ross, read for LibriVox
• 43:29
  Speaker 1: dot org. When youugate novelist, here lie the remains of
• 43:36
  Speaker 1: fair Lady Diana, who once shone a star in the
• 43:40
  Speaker 1: heaven of fame. How sadly they'll miss her, who often
• 43:43
  Speaker 1: did kiss her and trod on her virtue, and sipped
• 43:46
  Speaker 1: her champagne. May her sins be forgiven, though black as
• 43:51
  Speaker 1: the raven. May her soul bear the trademark of purity too.
• 43:55
  Speaker 1: For Lady Diana has left none to mourn her, so
• 43:59
  Speaker 1: deeply as I do, so lightly as you, written eighteen
• 44:04
  Speaker 1: hundred ninety three, end of poem. This recording is in
• 44:11
  Speaker 1: the public domain. Jamie jar by Amanda mc kittrick Ross,
• 44:22
  Speaker 1: read for LibriVox dot org by Newgate novelist. Here lies
• 44:29
  Speaker 1: a blooming rascal, once known as Jamie Jar, a lawyer
• 44:33
  Speaker 1: of the lowest type, who loved your name. To char
• 44:37
  Speaker 1: of clownish ways and manners. He aped at speaking fine,
• 44:41
  Speaker 1: which proved as awkward to him as a drawing room
• 44:44
  Speaker 1: to swine. I stood while the ground was hollowed. To
• 44:49
  Speaker 1: admit this pile of stink. They placed the coffin upside down.
• 44:54
  Speaker 1: The men upon the brink. How the stony mold did
• 44:58
  Speaker 1: thunder upon the coffin rump. The fainter grew the rattle
• 45:03
  Speaker 1: the deeper. Jamie sunk, his mouth now shut forever, his
• 45:09
  Speaker 1: lying tongue now stalk. His paws lie still, and never
• 45:13
  Speaker 1: more can stab you in the dock. Earth is by
• 45:17
  Speaker 1: farther richer Hell, one border more. Heaven rejoices to be
• 45:23
  Speaker 1: free from such a legal bore. Written eighteen hundred and
• 45:29
  Speaker 1: eighty end of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 45:43
  Speaker 1: Saphire a slick by Amanda mc kittrick Ross read for
• 45:48
  Speaker 1: LibriVox dot Org by Newgate novelist. The end has come.
• 45:56
  Speaker 1: Her bodies warm. The villain's dead now hath ceased from
• 46:01
  Speaker 1: working harm. The soul hath fled. Yes, there she lies
• 46:06
  Speaker 1: a mass of sin, saphire, a slick No more we'll
• 46:10
  Speaker 1: hear her lying din. Her tongues now thick the average age.
• 46:16
  Speaker 1: She hadn't reached all new full well. But long enough
• 46:20
  Speaker 1: she swore and preach'd this limb of hell a kindly word.
• 46:25
  Speaker 1: She never spake to beast or man, though often tied
• 46:30
  Speaker 1: to bed and stake, she'd writhe and damn. She plies
• 46:35
  Speaker 1: her oars on water's dead. She's sailing now, where wind
• 46:39
  Speaker 1: and thunder are ahead o'er her dead brow. At last
• 46:44
  Speaker 1: she lands upon the brink where evil dwells. She realizes
• 46:48
  Speaker 1: now methinks that there's a hell. She twists in pain.
• 46:53
  Speaker 1: She groans aloud, Oh God, come nigh.
• 46:56
  Speaker 2: Had I my life to live again, I'd never lie.
• 46:59
  Speaker 2: Give me thine aid for Jesus' sake. Oh take my
• 47:03
  Speaker 2: soul with thy son's blood. Are write my name on
• 47:07
  Speaker 2: Heaven's roll. Too late, Her doom is down below, her
• 47:12
  Speaker 2: souls secure with him who taught her every day all
• 47:15
  Speaker 2: things impure. We're glad she's dead. We all rejoice e'en
• 47:20
  Speaker 2: at her fall. No more to hear that lying voice
• 47:24
  Speaker 2: or wicked call. Written eighteen hundred and.
• 47:28
  Speaker 1: Eighty end of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 47:43
  Speaker 1: The Old Chestnut by Amanda mc kittrick Ross read for
• 47:49
  Speaker 1: LibriVox dot Org, by Newgate novelist. The chestnut tree in
• 47:56
  Speaker 1: the garden where first I breathed, the air stilla, its
• 48:00
  Speaker 1: pyramids of bloom on nature, bright and fair. It eye
• 48:06
  Speaker 1: stands tall and stately, though fifty years or more have
• 48:11
  Speaker 1: fled along since I was born, beside its leafy shore.
• 48:16
  Speaker 1: Its trunk is thick and tall and straight. Its boughs
• 48:20
  Speaker 1: and branches many grow round about without a doubt to
• 48:25
  Speaker 1: shelter all and any beneath its shade. I oft, have
• 48:30
  Speaker 1: sat in happy hours of glee. All care to me
• 48:34
  Speaker 1: A stranger was under this chestnut tree oft. Still I
• 48:40
  Speaker 1: go and gaze upon its lofty form of old, and
• 48:44
  Speaker 1: sit beneath its wings of peace, still dear to me
• 48:48
  Speaker 1: as gold. Long may its branches bright and green obeisance
• 48:54
  Speaker 1: to me, Make long may it live of trees the
• 48:58
  Speaker 1: Queen for naught but old Time's sake, written nineteen hundred
• 49:04
  Speaker 1: and eleven, end of poem. This recording is in the
• 49:10
  Speaker 1: public domain. The Town of Terre by Amanda McKittrick Ross
• 49:22
  Speaker 1: read for LibriVox dot Org by Newgate novelist. By the
• 49:29
  Speaker 1: side of the sea, there rests a town with imports
• 49:32
  Speaker 1: of every class of clowns, from the space within the
• 49:35
  Speaker 1: poorhouse walls, to the houses nearing the freestone hall, from
• 49:40
  Speaker 1: the lanes where lewdness and filth exist, from the shanties
• 49:44
  Speaker 1: erected at every twist, from the shells of show on
• 49:48
  Speaker 1: the top of a height, down to hollows as dark
• 49:51
  Speaker 1: as night. There exists a swarm of odds and ends,
• 49:55
  Speaker 1: whom folk of importance would not call friends. Within in
• 50:00
  Speaker 1: its limits of rustic glow, you'll find some folk as
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  Speaker 1: pure as snow. The clergy, of course, are here included.
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  Speaker 1: They don't belong to that class deluded. Go hear them
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  Speaker 1: preach on a Sunday morn, you'd think they couldn't tell
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  Speaker 1: hip from a horn. They so heavenly seem in their
• 50:19
  Speaker 1: deathlike cloaks with a symbol of purity at their throats degraded. Indeed,
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  Speaker 1: would the scoundrel be who'd molest these tutors of Calvary?
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  Speaker 1: Tare has got doctors by the score to attend the
• 50:34
  Speaker 1: wants of both rich and poor. And amongst them all
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  Speaker 1: there's only one whom you could call a gentleman. Some
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  Speaker 1: of the others are coarse and rough, cursing and swearing
• 50:46
  Speaker 1: and all such stuff. But in every town there's mostly
• 50:51
  Speaker 1: one who, for swearing lies, is second to none, and
• 50:55
  Speaker 1: mark you. The town of tare Hymn holds within its
• 50:58
  Speaker 1: cloak of rustic, though tis stuffed with teachers of every grade,
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  Speaker 1: of every make and stamp and shade, who try to
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  Speaker 1: cram you with acres of lore instead of yards as
• 51:10
  Speaker 1: in days of yore. Then there are drapers to clothe
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  Speaker 1: you too, in black or white, in pink or in blue,
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  Speaker 1: and grocers to fill your hungry bags, and butchers to
• 51:20
  Speaker 1: grease them with mutton scrags. Builders who don't know f
• 51:25
  Speaker 1: from Z, but with aid from others, can go ahead.
• 51:28
  Speaker 1: Tinkers and tailors are plentiful too, who make cans and
• 51:32
  Speaker 1: clothes for me and for you. Sawyers and colliers and
• 51:36
  Speaker 1: mercantile factors, bobbies and cabbies and handsome inspectors, jewelers who
• 51:42
  Speaker 1: have great ups and downs, Lawyers the greatest of all
• 51:47
  Speaker 1: living hounds, Knights who believed in a hug and a squeeze,
• 51:51
  Speaker 1: with grandma faced antiques who loved to be teased publicans.
• 51:57
  Speaker 1: Don't think you're left in the cold, for the devil
• 51:59
  Speaker 1: upon you has got a good hold. There's old Tabby Tuffy,
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  Speaker 1: the maid of the mill, whose grandfather kept a tidy
• 52:07
  Speaker 1: wee still, and bushels of other old spinsters too, who
• 52:12
  Speaker 1: fancy they're better than I. Or you never speak of
• 52:16
  Speaker 1: that devil despiser Lundy who wouldn't eat eggs that were
• 52:19
  Speaker 1: laid on a Sunday. And Crabby mac Fluster of Windy Mount,
• 52:24
  Speaker 1: who follows women in endless count and mark you. Crabby's
• 52:28
  Speaker 1: fancies are high as the pigs are low. That grunt
• 52:31
  Speaker 1: and the stye, the rowdy, the dowdy, the crooked, the strait,
• 52:36
  Speaker 1: the fat and the lean folk of every make, the
• 52:39
  Speaker 1: halt and the maimed of far off strain, the jew
• 52:43
  Speaker 1: and the gentile. The town of Terre claims it's undefiled.
• 52:48
  Speaker 1: Bankers so graceful and sweet are samples of saintdom you
• 52:52
  Speaker 1: don't often meet. Then there are elders to auction your souls.
• 52:56
  Speaker 1: The higher, the bidder, the larger, the tull and frow,
• 53:00
  Speaker 1: the old foggies whose hobby is money who gather and
• 53:03
  Speaker 1: hoard it as bees do their honey. Dispensers of justice
• 53:07
  Speaker 1: too rivet its heart, some of whom try to act
• 53:10
  Speaker 1: well their part, some gentle and high born, some low
• 53:14
  Speaker 1: bread and rough, while others are made of far better stuff.
• 53:19
  Speaker 1: All such noodles it takes to make up a town,
• 53:22
  Speaker 1: from lord lazy bones down to the humblest clown. And
• 53:27
  Speaker 1: tear has its sample of such like galore. It holds
• 53:30
  Speaker 1: imports from every place the world o'er. So the pick
• 53:34
  Speaker 1: of the town I hold fast and tight. Farewell to
• 53:38
  Speaker 1: you all, I bid thee good night return eighteen hundred
• 53:43
  Speaker 1: ninety end of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 53:56
  Speaker 1: The Old Home by Amanda McKittrick Ross read for LibriVox
• 54:02
  Speaker 1: dot Org by Newgate novelist. Don't I see the Old
• 54:09
  Speaker 1: Home over there in the square, with its rose laden
• 54:12
  Speaker 1: walls so descriptive of care? They are white as that
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  Speaker 1: virtue I knew when a boy beneath their sweet scent,
• 54:20
  Speaker 1: dressed in brown corduroy. Let me wander the world o'er
• 54:26
  Speaker 1: and wide through its halls. Let me grace the King's mansions,
• 54:31
  Speaker 1: pay court to his calls. Should I bathe deep in luxuries,
• 54:36
  Speaker 1: dens of device, my old home. Oh give me, were
• 54:41
  Speaker 1: it not tenth so nice? In hours of ease midst
• 54:46
  Speaker 1: the world's chiefest stuff, Though I dine in its castles,
• 54:50
  Speaker 1: where nothing is rough. Though I soar in the air
• 54:55
  Speaker 1: of talent and song, and drink of the best, which
• 54:59
  Speaker 1: off leads me wrong. Though I flatter the fair, the
• 55:04
  Speaker 1: high born, I squeeze and sit with his Majesty, all
• 55:08
  Speaker 1: at my ease. Yet my thoughts I revert to the
• 55:13
  Speaker 1: old walls of snow, to the home of my youth,
• 55:17
  Speaker 1: the mind it will go, Written eighteen hundred and eighty four,
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  Speaker 1: end of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 55:35
  Speaker 1: The Village of Hell by Amanda McKittrick Ross readflibrivox dot
• 55:42
  Speaker 1: org by Newgate novelist. I've touched all corners of this
• 55:48
  Speaker 1: planet Earth, at times of plenty and times of dearth.
• 55:52
  Speaker 1: I've chatted with high born, the low and ill bred,
• 55:55
  Speaker 1: and listened to clergy prey over the dead. I've visited
• 55:59
  Speaker 1: regions you'd fear to behold, and sections unfit for young
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  Speaker 1: or for old. But the crown of my travels to you.
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  Speaker 1: I now tell for all that is vile is the
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  Speaker 1: village of Hell. The road it is broad that leads
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  Speaker 1: you there, thousands of rovers to it repair to view
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  Speaker 1: this wee village, so rustic, so hot and twig. All
• 56:24
  Speaker 1: the villains who live in this spot, the legless and
• 56:27
  Speaker 1: breadless and crafty. You see, the wag and the witty,
• 56:31
  Speaker 1: the wasp and the bee, and hood of the tavern
• 56:34
  Speaker 1: who winks near its well, how he welcomes you all
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  Speaker 1: to the village of Hell, that the devil resides there.
• 56:44
  Speaker 1: There isn't a doubt her breath is inhaled by the
• 56:46
  Speaker 1: village throughout. Folk miscall the poor devil by classing him he.
• 56:52
  Speaker 1: But the devil of devils is trulier she for cunning
• 56:56
  Speaker 1: and craft for lies her I find to excel in
• 57:00
  Speaker 1: all evil attached to her kind. Her tongue wags ding
• 57:05
  Speaker 1: dong like the clink of a bell as she paddles
• 57:08
  Speaker 1: away through the village of Hell. Tis composed of wee
• 57:14
  Speaker 1: poke holes erected in haste, the majority of them all
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  Speaker 1: going to waste, some covered with whiskers a dull browny green,
• 57:22
  Speaker 1: while others wear faces a shame to be seen. But
• 57:26
  Speaker 1: the funniest feature there isn't a closet the needs of
• 57:30
  Speaker 1: your nature in which to deposit. So call it a dunghill,
• 57:34
  Speaker 1: or call it a well tis always best known as
• 57:38
  Speaker 1: the village of Hell Reriten, eighteen hundred and eighty end
• 57:46
  Speaker 1: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Love
• 57:57
  Speaker 1: by Amanda mc kittrick Ross at willibrivox dot org. When youugate, novelist,
• 58:06
  Speaker 1: my thoughts fly aloft as the birds in the air
• 58:09
  Speaker 1: when folded in sleep, A stranger to care for something
• 58:14
  Speaker 1: is always at work with a will, and that is
• 58:17
  Speaker 1: the brain. For it can't be still. It whispers of
• 58:21
  Speaker 1: love in its maddened state. Its echo you hear, asleep
• 58:25
  Speaker 1: or awake. Be deaf to its sound, be blind to
• 58:29
  Speaker 1: its sway. The passion of love must have its way.
• 58:34
  Speaker 1: Go shake Love out where the rays of the sun
• 58:38
  Speaker 1: will burn its fibers one by one. Yet its ashes
• 58:42
  Speaker 1: soon will glow again, to blaze far brighter by ten
• 58:46
  Speaker 1: times ten. Go drop it down in the ocean, deep,
• 58:53
  Speaker 1: bury it high in the mountain, peak, lash it into
• 58:57
  Speaker 1: limitless space. Still you'll find it. King of the human race.
• 59:04
  Speaker 1: Suppose you were safe in Heaven's cell, and I, whom
• 59:07
  Speaker 1: you loved, were down in hell, you would jump through
• 59:11
  Speaker 1: sky and air and sea to enjoy old love once
• 59:15
  Speaker 1: more with me? For what of hymns sung by saints
• 59:20
  Speaker 1: in heaven and the prayers of angels seven times seven,
• 59:25
  Speaker 1: when compared with that passion so grand, so great, that
• 59:29
  Speaker 1: rules the world asleep or awake? Written eighteen hundred ninety seven,
• 59:39
  Speaker 1: end of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 59:49
  Speaker 1: Epitaph on large Bones the Lawyer by Amanda makittrich Ross,
• 59:56
  Speaker 1: red Philbrivox dot org. Bine nugate novelist. Beneath me Here
• 1:00:04
  Speaker 1: in stinking clumps lies Lawyer large bones, all in lumps,
• 1:00:09
  Speaker 1: a rotten mass of clock holed clay, which grows more
• 1:00:14
  Speaker 1: honeycombed each day. See how the rats have scratched his face. Now,
• 1:00:21
  Speaker 1: so unlike the human race, I very much regret I
• 1:00:28
  Speaker 1: can't assist them in their eager bent Written nineteen hundred,
• 1:00:37
  Speaker 1: end of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 1:00:47
  Speaker 1: Lawyer Jock by Amanda mc kittrick Ross read from Leibrivox
• 1:00:51
  Speaker 1: dot org. When yougate novelist away on the hill of Revenge,
• 1:00:58
  Speaker 1: north of the Pathway of Spy, lived a lawyer of
• 1:01:01
  Speaker 1: little account for he never did anything right. His name
• 1:01:05
  Speaker 1: was Jock for a Starter, a son of old miser Madil,
• 1:01:10
  Speaker 1: who charged forty percent on all money lent and kept
• 1:01:14
  Speaker 1: a private wee still in the guts of a kennel
• 1:01:19
  Speaker 1: of bloodhounds. I first laid looks upon Jock, whose outfit
• 1:01:25
  Speaker 1: would really remind you of an underbred bantecock. South of
• 1:01:30
  Speaker 1: his throat, so shaped like a goat, rested a knot
• 1:01:34
  Speaker 1: of gray, a vest of red, with hair on his
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  Speaker 1: head as black as bleak dismay. Jock sleepd his coils
• 1:01:44
  Speaker 1: that were over oiled on either side of a line
• 1:01:48
  Speaker 1: which seemed to be drawn so straight and long from
• 1:01:51
  Speaker 1: his forehead down to his spine. His face, so shaped
• 1:01:57
  Speaker 1: like a butter spade, was of color a corpsey pail,
• 1:02:01
  Speaker 1: with a treacherous look in every nook from the top
• 1:02:04
  Speaker 1: of it down to his hum His jacket was quite
• 1:02:11
  Speaker 1: out of fashion. I knew by the cut of its
• 1:02:14
  Speaker 1: front twas something like drug it. His granny wore in
• 1:02:18
  Speaker 1: a petticoat round her rump. His breeches were horsy and
• 1:02:23
  Speaker 1: narrow and short in the shank, you know, a drab
• 1:02:27
  Speaker 1: with a stripe, and socks dirty white which made him
• 1:02:30
  Speaker 1: a shabby show. Twas away, far back in the fifties,
• 1:02:36
  Speaker 1: when love wasn't quite so rife, Jock had the cheek
• 1:02:41
  Speaker 1: to send me a note asking to be his wife.
• 1:02:46
  Speaker 1: I dyed it with human ochre, tore it in pieces,
• 1:02:50
  Speaker 1: ten wrote on the mouth of the cover that I
• 1:02:55
  Speaker 1: was no bunty. Hen Jock handed round the tit bits
• 1:03:01
  Speaker 1: of his missive to all the dogs occupying his kennel,
• 1:03:05
  Speaker 1: in which they snarled and leaped like frogs. Then there
• 1:03:10
  Speaker 1: was general snigger one day when they turned up to
• 1:03:14
  Speaker 1: Jock the notice that I had got married, but not
• 1:03:19
  Speaker 1: to a bantecock. I meet him betimes on the wayside,
• 1:03:25
  Speaker 1: but never within my thoughts for anything nearer. Nothing was
• 1:03:30
  Speaker 1: never by sexes rot. The etiquette of his kennel has
• 1:03:35
  Speaker 1: suffered a nasty shock by allowing within its school of
• 1:03:40
  Speaker 1: sin such a dirty wee banty cock Retten, eighteen hundred
• 1:03:46
  Speaker 1: and ninety one, and of poem. This recording is in
• 1:03:54
  Speaker 1: the public domain. Lines on Missus John Majerry by Amanda M.
• 1:04:05
  Speaker 1: Kittrick Ross read Velebrivox dot org. When you gate novelist,
• 1:04:12
  Speaker 1: noblest woman ever born, never sad nor yet forlorn. Thou
• 1:04:18
  Speaker 1: hast lived the average life to thine husband, kindly wife,
• 1:04:23
  Speaker 1: always to thy neighbor's kind, oft their sores, Thou didst
• 1:04:27
  Speaker 1: well bind to the hungry, gavest food still, and ever
• 1:04:32
  Speaker 1: doing good. Many a gentle word let fall to friend
• 1:04:36
  Speaker 1: and stranger, one, and all clothed the naked, fed the poor,
• 1:04:42
  Speaker 1: never shut to them. Thy door warmed the wandering outcast
• 1:04:47
  Speaker 1: oft uttering words both sweet and soft. God, I pray
• 1:04:52
  Speaker 1: shall THEE reward whom thou didst not disregard. Life was
• 1:04:57
  Speaker 1: severed from the friend whom God, as husband, didst THEE send,
• 1:05:01
  Speaker 1: leaving THEE to mourn a loss worse than any human cross.
• 1:05:05
  Speaker 1: Nothing but his love canst heal the wound, which often
• 1:05:09
  Speaker 1: thou dost feel. Still blest with children numbering two, who
• 1:05:14
  Speaker 1: ever mindful are of you, toiling on thy form to bless,
• 1:05:18
  Speaker 1: offering thee their sweet caress. Long may they live thy
• 1:05:22
  Speaker 1: cheek to chafe as thou didst many a sickly waif.
• 1:05:27
  Speaker 1: Long may you live to be calld blest by those
• 1:05:29
  Speaker 1: you help'd when in distress. And when thy day blinks
• 1:05:33
  Speaker 1: out its light. I pray that thou shalt see no Knight,
• 1:05:38
  Speaker 1: And as time moves, as move it must to witness thee.
• 1:05:42
  Speaker 1: When turn'd to dust, thy soul shall dwell in holy realms,
• 1:05:47
  Speaker 1: while we with grief will be o'erwhelm'd, parting with thy
• 1:05:51
  Speaker 1: noble form that often soothed and calm'd a storm tis,
• 1:05:56
  Speaker 1: then thoult join thy husband, dear inglory, or in too
• 1:06:00
  Speaker 1: all fear tis, then thou'lt meet thy true reward. When
• 1:06:04
  Speaker 1: God shall thee with glory God upon Earth's face, both
• 1:06:10
  Speaker 1: broad and long, Thine equal yet has to be borne,
• 1:06:15
  Speaker 1: for since the flood that drenched the earth, no better
• 1:06:19
  Speaker 1: being ere drew breath, written eighteen hundred ninety end of poem.
• 1:06:28
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. Doctor Bushy Brows
• 1:06:39
  Speaker 1: by Amanda mc kittrick Ross read from the Brivoxtot leg
• 1:06:42
  Speaker 1: when yougate novelist. There lived in the village of Vice,
• 1:06:48
  Speaker 1: a doctor you couldn't call nice, for he had a
• 1:06:51
  Speaker 1: face like the whole of his race, as false as
• 1:06:54
  Speaker 1: the devil's. This doesn't embrace the dales, is as full
• 1:06:58
  Speaker 1: of device. His brows were bushy and black, which denoted
• 1:07:03
  Speaker 1: he wasn't the whack over. They crossed at the top
• 1:07:07
  Speaker 1: of his snout, which showed that the wearer was merely
• 1:07:10
  Speaker 1: a lout, like a half civilized steeple jack. Had you
• 1:07:15
  Speaker 1: wished to give him a quid, which into his pocket
• 1:07:18
  Speaker 1: he slid, how he'd shape at kissing the Bible so
• 1:07:22
  Speaker 1: sly and swear a lie as high as the sky,
• 1:07:27
  Speaker 1: which many a time he did. But Alas the King
• 1:07:32
  Speaker 1: of Clay sent for the doctor one day and told
• 1:07:35
  Speaker 1: him to strip from head to hips, closing forever his
• 1:07:39
  Speaker 1: lying lips and of hope didn't give him a ray.
• 1:07:44
  Speaker 1: The soul and body, which fought indeed in word and thought,
• 1:07:48
  Speaker 1: now ended the duel. The soul went to fuel the body,
• 1:07:51
  Speaker 1: to feed the worms with gruel for the devil at
• 1:07:54
  Speaker 1: last him caught two doctors deer in every sphere. Never
• 1:07:59
  Speaker 1: swear lies for favor or gear. Don't add your souls
• 1:08:03
  Speaker 1: to the devil's rule, but try to attain that heavenly
• 1:08:07
  Speaker 1: goal Purchased alone by fear, written eighteen hundred ninety end
• 1:08:14
  Speaker 1: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Poe
• 1:08:26
  Speaker 1: the Lawyer by Amanda Mikittrie cross read for the Brevox
• 1:08:30
  Speaker 1: Dottle Bhenugate novelist of all the names within my knowledge
• 1:08:36
  Speaker 1: ere enrolled at a school or college. The ugliest and
• 1:08:40
  Speaker 1: most obscene is Poe, the lawyer of cackle Green. To
• 1:08:45
  Speaker 1: call a man by such a name, especially one who
• 1:08:48
  Speaker 1: apes at fame, is styling human nature low by giving
• 1:08:52
  Speaker 1: it the name of Poe. From humblest Cot to proudest Castle, Poe,
• 1:08:58
  Speaker 1: we call the dirty vessel out this thought. You couldn't
• 1:09:03
  Speaker 1: blink that pose another name for stink. Now Poe would
• 1:09:10
  Speaker 1: tell you tis superior, calling by name posterior. And why
• 1:09:17
  Speaker 1: he doesn't alter Poe to chamber, Damn me if I know.
• 1:09:24
  Speaker 1: Written eighteen hundred and ninety end of poem. This recording
• 1:09:30
  Speaker 1: is in the public domain. Farewell by Amandamer Kittrick Ross
• 1:09:42
  Speaker 1: read Felebrevox Dotleg by Newgate novelist. Farewell to all my
• 1:09:51
  Speaker 1: friends and foes. When again we'll meet, God knows, however,
• 1:09:57
  Speaker 1: should it be above where not abi but holy love,
• 1:10:01
  Speaker 1: I'll greet you with a saintly smile, that e'en the
• 1:10:05
  Speaker 1: devil would beguile. Perchance it should be down below. I'll
• 1:10:10
  Speaker 1: grin at every one I know, And if our lot
• 1:10:13
  Speaker 1: be in between, I'll bless the pope and curse the King,
• 1:10:18
  Speaker 1: written nineteen hundred and eleven end of poem. This recording
• 1:10:25
  Speaker 1: is in the public domain, and and of Poems of
• 1:10:31
  Speaker 1: Puncture by Amanda Makittrick Ross. Thank you for listening.