Boone County Recorder . uat kiss me, sweet-heart; kiss me! *Tis miles to go,long miles to go to where I do reside,and boogie men are In the cars thatrun to Morningside! Her eyes were like two stars thatshine and sparkle through the rain;Bhe sobbed: Good-by, sweetheart olmine!—he kissed his love should I not return some day toclaim my blushing bride, youll find meon the right of way twixt here andMorningside! Oh, Phyllis, I must pull up stakesthis awful trip to make—hark! do youhear the broken brakes refuse to makea brake? Good-by, my love; good-by,my dove! on this I do decide; whenai


Boone County Recorder . uat kiss me, sweet-heart; kiss me! *Tis miles to go,long miles to go to where I do reside,and boogie men are In the cars thatrun to Morningside! Her eyes were like two stars thatshine and sparkle through the rain;Bhe sobbed: Good-by, sweetheart olmine!—he kissed his love should I not return some day toclaim my blushing bride, youll find meon the right of way twixt here andMorningside! Oh, Phyllis, I must pull up stakesthis awful trip to make—hark! do youhear the broken brakes refuse to makea brake? Good-by, my love; good-by,my dove! on this I do decide; whenairships come in use Ill take you upto Morningside. He found a car Well loaded downwith GO souls or more to take thepathway through the town hed takenoft before. The guard unto his voicegave vent: Ooftgooftenooftenvide!then closed the gates and off theywent, bound for Morningside. Fat men sat down in ladies lapstheyd never met before; and sad andsolemn-looking chaps exploded some. Genteel Imitation of a Rough-House. and swore. Some used the air to standupon, the floor was occupied by 27,000Teet bound out for Morningside. I want my hat! a small man criedin accents full of heat; and when toreach for it he tried, somebody swipedhis seat. Ten thousand souls hungonto straps and did the slide the-slide; the human laundry which atnight hangs out for Morningside. Beneath the car the third rail snapsand barks and tries to bite whilethose who hang around on straps turnover then turn white. It sighs forthose and cries for those who in thecoaches ride, and makes them wishthey did not live far out at Morning-side. Where does the fat director ridewho owns the iron road? With humansardines does he hide while homewardhe is towed? Not on your life! asqueeze like that would surely hurthis pride; he takes the benzine buggywhen he goes to Morningside. The cars will crowded be to-night;thereH be another—erush;Tfor hungerwaits on appetite and all must home-ward rush, and stand lik


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectnewspap, bookyear1908