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A Philosopher

From The Birmingham Age-Herald, March 8, 1913.

 There lived a happy man one time
     Who ne’er was known to sigh;
 He simply spat tobacco juice
     And watched the world go by.
 In winter time he sought a stove,
     In summer by a stream
 He stretched himself in careless ease,
     Well pleased to rest and dream.
 The busy turmoil of this life
     Did not appeal to him;
 He had no brilliant plans mapped out
     For keeping “in the swim.”
 The song of birds was sweet to hear,
     He loved the skies of blue
 And when the sun beamed on the earth
     It warmed him through and through.
 “A worthless chap,” some people said,
     Who did not understand,
 Merely because he scorned to work
     With head or foot or hand.
 But life was passing sweet to him,
     And though without a cent,
 He often laughed at millionaires
     Who knew far less content.

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