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.
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