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.
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