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Adrian Press Items

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Parent Issue
Day
7
Month
May
Year
1897
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

Let a man die and he is snddeny discovered to be obuck full of good qualities. - Fetersburgh Sun. Yes, the fresh olods on a ruan's grave are a powerful poultioe to draw out his virtues. All joking side, if Bros. Stearns and Smith will come over to Ann Arbor, we will endeavor to assiet Dr. Carrow to the very best of our ability, in removing the free trade film that has so long obstruoted their visión. Come over. - Ann Arbor Coarier. "First cast the beam out of tbine owb eye, and then thon sbalt see more clearly to pull the mote from tby brother's eye." Biohard M. Bobbins, a youth from Augusta, last week was married to Miss Mercy Finny, of Willis. The Willis peuple claim he stole her heart and were about to bave Mm arrested for grand larceny, but he begged so hard for Mercy, that they relented, and while Willis loses one of its handsomest young ladies, there are more Bobbins over in Augusta. If Willis wishes to get even, a marriage with Augusta should be oonsumated. One Foote, an Alma poet has written a "pome" to a "Songbird in Spring" and begins with "Siug ou, Oh Mary, little bird." We presume after Mary takes care of her little lamb, she will sint? on. "Swell the air, with many a song," admonishes Mr. Twelve Inohes. Certainly the air is slim and slender and in the spring time is the time to swell it. Swelled air helps bicyolers. "And thou wilt; cheer the world along. " Yes, thou wilt, birdie, if thon don't wilt too soon. Just where the world is going, is of no importance bnt, as it flips over and over on its axletree, the neither aud tother ends of which constitnte the north and south poles respectively, it can, be chtered, and the world will be happy with song cbeer. "None bnt God, thy songs can pen," continúes Foote. This saves the ordinary poet much work. But he can breathe the swollen air, enjoy the cheered world, and listen to the warble, even though he can't read the writing. "None bnt thee nan sing to men." Oh Mary, bird, what a proud distinction is thine! Yon alone can sing to men. Most any one can sing to women, but to men, nary a Florence Nightingale, a NeilsoD, Patti, Lind or Albani can sing. Only thee, merry bird. Picase hop upon our window Bill; tune up, and set things swelling. Foote's poetic feet and his poetic feat, have stirred a responsive cbord or something in our symphonio nature, as the swelled air rusbes madly through our varioils anatomical compartments. Let us hope he has a renewal of his poetic license for another year.

Article

Subjects
Ann Arbor Argus
Old News