He Is So Mean, He Won't Let

But I, When I Undress Me Each Night, Upon My Knees Will Ask The Lord To Bless Me With Apple-pie And Cheese.

Used To Think That Luck Wuz Luck And Nuthin' Else But Luck-- It Made No Diff'rence How Or When Or Where Or Why It Struck; But Sev'ral Years Ago I Changt My Mind, An' Now Proclaim That Luck's A Kind Uv Science--same As Any Other Game.

Father Calls Me William, Sister Calls Me Will, Mother Calls Me Willie, But The Fellows Call Me Bill!.

How Gracious Those Dews Of Solace That Over My Senses Fall At The Clink Of The Ice In The Pitcher The Boy Brings Up The Hall.

Have You An Unexpurgated Copy Of Hannah More's 'letters To A Village Maiden'?