Rich Folks May Ride On

Some Medical Beast Had Revived Tar-water In Those Days As A Fine Medicine, And Mrs. Joe Always Kept A Supply Of It In The Cupboard; Having A Belief In Its Virtues Correspondent To Its Nastiness. At The Best Of Times, So Much Of This Elixir Was Administered To Me As A Choice Restorative, That I Was Conscious Of Going About, Smelling Like A New Fence.

It's Not Put Into His Head To Be Buried. It's Put Into His Head To Be Made Useful. You Hold Your Life On The Condition That To The Last You Shall Struggle Hard For It. Every Man Holds A Discovery On The Same Terms.

Can I View Thee Panting, Lying On Thy Stomach, Without Sighing; Can I Unmoved See Thee Dying On A Log Expiring Frog!

Spite Is A Little Word, But It Represents As Strange A Jumble Of Feelings And Compound Of Discords, As Any Polysyllable In The Language.

An Inebriated Elderly Gentleman In The Last Depths Of Shabbiness... Played The Calm And Virtuous Old Men.