From The Birmingham Age Herald, June 27, 1915.

Now, riches don’t make happiness,
    A very ancient saw;
And yet, a maid who’s in distress
    Quite often goes to law
And asks enormous damages
    To heal a broken heart,
And when her lawyer makes his pleas
    The jury takes her part,
So that, in just a little while,
    Her breach of promise suit
Extracts the coin to live in style
    From one who proved a “brute.”
And while it mayn’t be happiness
    That makes her features glow,
Whate’er it is, it doth express
    A joyous mood, I know.