Newspaper Articles Transcribed by George Burgess (1829-1905)

George Burgess was a great lover of poetry and good literature, and he gained much pleasure from transcribing articles he read and enjoyed. Below is a selection of six Victorian newspaper saved in his scrapbook of Victorian newspaper articles transcribed by George Burgess; reproduced in his hand-writing and written on his own personalised paper.

Below these handwritten copies are typed transcripts and images of the original newspaper articles (where available) scanned from George Burgess’s Victorian scrapbook.

THE GIRLS WE LOVE THE BEST.

HERE’S health to the girls, the beautiful girls
Who make the world so blest,
Especially to those fair ones
Whom of all we love the best.
Who could be glad without them.
Or contented with their lot?
E’en Heaven itself without the girls
Would be a wretched spot.

O bless the Lord that Adam’s rib
Was ever take out,
For we can all forget our cares,
If they are but about!
Their sunny smiles send light and warmth
To every heart and breast;
Then here’s a health, a joyous health,
To the girls we love the best!

S. W. Hazeltd

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The Friendly Hand

When a man ain't got a cent an' he's felling kinda blue,
An' the clouds hang dark an' heavy an' won't let the sun shine,
It's a great thing, O my brethren for a fellow just to lay through,
His hand upon your shoulder in a friendly sort o'way.

It makes a man feel curious, it makes the teardrops start
An' you sort o' feel a flutter in the region of your heart
You can't look up to meet his eyes; you don't know what to say
When his hand is upon your shoulder in friendly sort o'way

O the world's a curious compound, with its honey ain't it good
With its cares an' bitter crosses, but a good world afterall,
an' a good God must have made it leastways, that's what I say
When a hand rests on my shoulder in a friendly sort o'way.

HOPE FOR THE BEST - By Astley H Baldwin.

Hope for the best, there is energy in it;
Courage will stand rough adversity’s test.
Strive, strive for the palm, and you’re certain to win it;
You may be tried now, but it’s “all for the best.”

Rough rain – clouds are gathering greater and greater,
Obscuring the heavens to recently fair;
There’s a rainbow behind to come sooner or later,
And the watch-word of wisdom is “Never despair.”

Try again, try again, there is always a turning;
The lane may be long, but the end you must find.
Look firmly before you, all obstacles spurning,
For a fixed resolution will not look behind.

Fall at first. Never mind: Others did so before you.
Courage and prudence were never in vain.
The reward of your toil must be hovering over you.
Have patience and faith; try again, try again.

Hope for the best! It can not be for ever.
The hardest to trials must all have an end.
Energy knows not the meaning of never;
Things may come to the worst, but they are certain to mend.

Hope for the best, there is fortitude in it;
Patience will triumph o’er poverty’s test.
Strive, strive for the palm, and you’re certain to win t.
And if you are tried now, why, “It’s all for the best.”

The Welcome Guest.

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GOOD ADVICE.

Is it anybody’s business,
If a gentleman should choose,
To wait upon a lady
If the lady don’t refuse?
Or to speak a little plainer,
That the meaning all may know,
Is it anybody’s business
If a lady has a beau.

Is it anybody’s business
When that gentleman doth call,
Or when he leaves the lady,
Or if he leaves at all?
Or is it necessary
That the curtains should be drawn,
To save from further trouble
The outside lookers-on?

Is it anybody’s business
But the lady’s, if her beau
Rideth out with other ladies
And he doesn’t let her know?
Is it anybody’s business
But the gentleman’s, if she
Should accept another escort,
Where he doesn’t chance to be?

If a person’s on the side-walk,
Whether great or whether small,
Is it anybody’s business
Where that person mean’s to call
Or if you see a person
While he’s calling anywhere,
Is it any of your business
What his business may be there?

The substance of your query,
Simply started would be this;
Is it any body’s business
What another’s business is?
Whether ‘tis, or whether ‘tisn’t,
We should really like to know,
For we’re certain, if it isn’t,
There are some who make it so.

If it is, we’ll join the rabble
And act the noble part
Of the tatters and defamers
Who throng the public mart;
But if not, we’ll act the teacher,
Until each meddler learns,
It were better in the future
To mind his own concerns!

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PEN DROPS.

Man................. A Bubble on the ocean’s rolling wave;
Life.................. A gleam of light extinguish’d by the grave;
Fame............... A meteor dazzling with its distant glare;
Wealth............. A source of trouble and consuming care;
Pleasure........... A gleam of sunshine passing soon away;
Love................ A morning stream whose memory gilds the day;
Faith................ An anchor dropp’d beyond the vale of death;
Hope............... A lone star beaming o’er the barren heath;
Charity............ A stream meandering from the fount of love;
Bible............... A guide to the realms of endless joy above;
Religion........... A key which opens wide the gates of heaven;
Death.............. A knife by which the ties of earth are riven;
Earth............... A desert through which pilgrims wend their way;
Grave.............. A home of rest when ends life’s weary day;
Resurrection.... A sudden waking from a quiet dream;
Heaven............ A land of joy, of light, and love supreme.

L. F. I.

THE SYMPATHIZING WOMAN.

If we were called upon to describe Mrs. Dobbs, we should, without hesitation, call her a sympathizing woman. Nobody was troubled with any malady she hadn’t suffered.

  • “She knew all about it by experience, and could sympathize with them form the bottom of her heart.”

Bob Turner was a wag, and when one day he saw Mrs. Dobbs coming along the road towards his house, he knew that, in the absence of his wife, he should be called upon to entertain her; so he resolved to play a little on the good woman’s abundant store of sympathy. Hastily procuring a large blanket, he wrapped himself up in it, and threw himself on a sofa near by.

  • “Why, goodness gracious! Mr. Turner, are you sick?” asked Mrs. Dobbs, as she saw his position.

  • “Oh, dreadfully,” groaned the imaginary invalid.

  • “What’s the matter?”

  • “Oh, a great many things. In the first place, I’ve got the congestion of the brain*.”

  • “That’s dreadful,” sighed Mrs. Dobbs; “I come pretty near dying of it ten years ago come next spring. What else?”

  • Dropsy,” again groaned Bob.

  • “There I can sympathize with you; I was troubled with it, but finally got over it.”

  • Neuralgia, continued Bob.

  • “Nobody can tell, Mr Turner, what I’ve suffered from neuralgia. It’s an awful complaint.”

  • “Then, again, I am much distressed by inflammation of the bowels.”

  • “If you’ve got that, I pity you,” commented Mrs. Dobbs; “for three years steady I was afflicted with it, and I don’t think I am fully recovered yet.”

  • “Rheumatism,” added Bob.

  • “Yes, that’s pretty likely to go along with neuralgia. It did with me.”

  • “Toothache,” suggested Bob.

  • “There have been times, Mr. Turner, when I thought I should have gone distracted with the toothache,” said the sympathizing woman.

  • “Then,” said Bob, who having temporarily run out of medical terms, resorted to a scientific name, “I am very much afraid that I’ve got the tethyzaures.”

  • “I shouldn’t be at all surprised,” said the ever-ready Mrs. Dobbs; “I had it when I was young.”

Though it was with great difficulty that he could resist laughing, but Bob continued, -

  • “I am suffering a good deal from a sprained ankle.”

  • “Then you can sympathize with me, Mr. Turner. I sprained mine when I was coming along.”

  • “But that isn’t the worst of it.”

  • “What is it?” asked Mrs. Dobbs, with curiosity.

  • “I wouldn’t tell any one but you, Mrs. Dobbs, “but the fact it” – here Bob groaned – “I am afraid, and my doctor agrees with me, that my reason is affected – that, in short, I’m a little crazy.”

Bob took breath, and wondered what Mrs. Dobbs would say to that.

  • “Oh, Mr. Turner! is it possible?” exclaimed the lady. “It’s horrible, I know it is. I frequently have spells of being out of my head myself.”

Bob could not stand it any longer; he burst into a roar of laughter, which Mrs. Dobbs taking for a precursor of violent paroxysm of insanity, she was led to take a hurried leave.


*Congestion of the Brain - a 19th Century term used to describe many conditions including hydrocephalus, stroke, cerebral haemorrhage, meningitis, and sunstroke.

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