So I was a mark for plunder at once,
And lost my cash (can you wonder?) at once,
But I didn't give up and knock under at once,
I worked in the Yards, for a spell.
Where I spent my nights and my days with hogs,
And shared their milk and maize with hogs,
Till, I guess, I have learned what pays with hogs
And--I have that knowledge to sell!

So back I go to my job again,
Not so easy to rob again,
Or quite so ready to sob again
On any neck that's around.
I'm leaving, Pater. Good-bye to you!
God bless you, Mater! I'll write to you....
I wouldn't be impolite to you,
But, Brother, you _are_ a hound!




THE NECESSITARIAN


I know not in Whose hands are laid
To empty upon earth
From unsuspected ambuscade
The very Urns of Mirth;