A Man named Mike Maginity Was Mrs. With’s affinity, And Mrs. Brown moved out of town, Away from that vicinity. Then a mut named Jim O’Flarity, In a burst of fool garality, Told Mr. With there was no mith In Mrs. With’s hilarity. Mr. With was watchful then; He polished up his gun, and when The soul mate came he fired to maim, Like many other foolish men. With is in the penitentiary, Without the least retrenchery, And calm and still, on Monkey Hill, Poor Mike will spend the century. Mrs. With, in fetch array, And many kinds of wretchery, Was sent away one summer day— Deported home through treachery. |