Miss Flora McFlimsey of Madison Square,
Has made three separate journeys to Paris,
And her father assures read more

Miss Flora McFlimsey of Madison Square,
Has made three separate journeys to Paris,
And her father assures me each time she was there
That she and her friend Mrs. Harris . . .
Spent six consecutive weeks, without shopping
In one continuous round of shopping,-- . . .
And yet, though scarce three months have passed since the day
This merchandise went on twelve carts, up Broadway,
This same Miss McFlimsey of Madison Square
The last time we met was in utter despair
Becasue she had nothing whatever to wear.

My galligaskins, that have long withstood
The winter's fury, and encroaching frosts,
By time subdues (what will read more

My galligaskins, that have long withstood
The winter's fury, and encroaching frosts,
By time subdues (what will not time subdue!)
An horrid chasm disclosed.

Attired to please herself: no gems of any kind
She wore, nor aught of borrowed gloss in Nature's stead;
read more

Attired to please herself: no gems of any kind
She wore, nor aught of borrowed gloss in Nature's stead;
And, then her long, loose hair flung round her head
Fell carelessly behind.

Needy knife-grinder! whither are ye going?
Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order;
Bleak read more

Needy knife-grinder! whither are ye going?
Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order;
Bleak blows the blast--your hat has got a hole in it.
So have your breeches.

Poverty is the step-mother of genius.

Poverty is the step-mother of genius.

I think that's how Chicago got started. A bunch of people in New York said, 'Gee, I'm enjoying the crime read more

I think that's how Chicago got started. A bunch of people in New York said, 'Gee, I'm enjoying the crime and the poverty, but it just isn't cold enough, let's go west.'

A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,
A cap by night,--a stocking all the day.

A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,
A cap by night,--a stocking all the day.

Poverty is the openmouthed relentless hell which yawns beneath civilized society. And it is hell enough.

Poverty is the openmouthed relentless hell which yawns beneath civilized society. And it is hell enough.

Poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue; it is hard for an empty bag to stand upright.

Poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue; it is hard for an empty bag to stand upright.