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.