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The Crusoing of Spifkins

From The Topeka State Journal, March 24, 1913.
 By Arthur Chapman.

 Young Spifkins had a fortune that had come down from his dad—
     He had lived his life in luxury and style;
 The best the market offered was the thing young Spifkins had—
     Existence was a matter of his pile.
 But Spifkins had a shipwreck on a far-off Southern shore,
     And all his wood and grub he had to haul;
 He’d thought he couldn’t live without the comforts from his store,
     But soon he had forgot about ‘em all.
 He found he could be happy in his tattered pantaloons—
     He never missed his collar and his tie;
 And restaurants and taxis he forgot, ere many moons—
     And, forgetting such, he didn’t want to die.
 And so, when some one landed on the isle where Spifkins dwelt,
     He chased the rash intruders from his tent;
 “I’ll not go back,” cried Spifkins, as he whaled them with his belt—
     “I never knew before what living meant.”

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