From The Birmingham Age Herald, October 9, 1914.

I knew a certain citizen
    Who wouldn’t take a drink;
He wouldn’t smoke, he wouldn’t swear,
    He wouldn’t even think
Of many sorts of wickedness
    That other men commit;
Among the ultra-pious folk
    He seemed to make a hit.

His prayers to the throne of grace
    Uprose day after day,
In church he joined the singing when
    The organ ‘gan to play.
For years he led a model life,
    But when away he went
The savings bank he’d organized
    Was left without a cent.