From the Evening Star, April 9, 1913.
 By Philander Johnson.
 

     Spite of all the churlish chatter
     It is quite a serious matter
 To become a proper guardian of the peace.
     You must have a disposition
     That would fit you for a mission
 To Turkey or the Balkans or to Greece.
     You must treat the children kindly,
     And when people jostle blindly
 At a crowded crossing ‘mid the dust and noise,
     You must grab a perfect stranger
     And convey him out of danger
 In a way that won’t disturb his equipoise.
 
     You must learn the regulations,
     And likewise the laws of nations,
 To avoid the chance of diplomatic jar.
     You must listen uncomplaining,
     All your sense of mirth restraining,
 While they come to tell you what their troubles are.
     You should have a fund of knowledge
     More than could be learned at college,
 To assist each weary wanderer in distress.
     And your compensation should be
     All a bank director’s could be—
 Though I fancy it’s considerably less.