A DAY WITH LORD DID-MORE.
Mr. Hearst is the home brew; no other hope.
The Trib.

At his usual hour Lord Did-More rose—

Renewed completely by repose—

His pleasant duty to rehearse

Of oiling up the universe.

Casting a glance aloft, he saw

That, yielding to a natural law,

The sun obediently moved

Precisely as he had approved.

If mundane things would only run