I've noticed that the hardest workers are the ones who take pride in their work. They not only get more work done, but they enjoy doin' it.
My Uncle Hod was the champ.on hay pitcher of Crawford county. lo could pitch hay onto the waggon all day in the hot sun and the horses had to trot to keep up with him. Oae day I said to Uncle Hod, "There's your, brother who is president of a Lig bank in town with nothin' to do but sit back of a big desk and here yeu are pitehin' hay all day long. Things ain't equally divided, are they?"
Uncle-Hod says, "No, they ain't—my poor brother couldn't last 40 minutes at this work!"
—By Bob Burns, Release Tıme shall slide over me (And.who shall withhold it?)
Like a spread wind, Like a stretched, bir Sun shall search into me, Strong on the bcne, Till the blood's fretfulness Sluices away; I shall stay, day-fore spent As a pale stone Under the level moon Sparkling alone; Frosty with blissfulness I shall have, soon A slight mist to cover me; With none to behold it, Soft as a bird, Wide "as a wind, Night shall swoop unto me: I shall be shaken Lightly and taken Forth on forgetfulness, Darkly content.
Words shall rise up in me, Bubbled from deeps Hid to the day, Where my innocence sleeps.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.