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Show fr . - i Rippling Rhymes By WALT .MASON V J 9 roll. ING ON Each day I labor with my lyre, i while neighbors go Joy riding; my 'tears may fall, my hands may tire, but Work Is all-ubldlng. My Jo;, ous neighbors, neigh-bors, as they pass. In ever brand of lii-zie, cry, "Come with us and burn: some gas. and knock the speed laws 'dizzy' ' When I have set this deathless' ode upon the costly paper. In my tin I car, along the road, you'll see me' proudly caper. But not until the- ode i Is done, and to tho malls I've turned ill; I don't believe in burning mon be-I be-I fore s fellow's earned It. Don't spend your unearned money yet, I beg you, gents and ladles' That Is the road that leads to debt, and debt Is simply : I Hades. 1 would not tool my pea-green 'car and leave my work neglected, the thought ofVhat would surely mai su h bliss as I'd expected. My pushcart doesn't leave Its stall till all my tasks are. ended, and then I scorch along the Mall In pomp that's truly splendid, splen-did, oh, then I feel I have the right to go around rlp-tenrlng, and honk my horn throughout the night, and, keep the peelers swearing. Copyright bv George Matthew Adams. |