The Rewards Of Industry

A FRIEND of mine said yesterday: 'There goes a man across the way Who paid ten thousand dollars for a home a week ago; He owns an automobile now, a saddle horse and keeps a cow, And smokes cigars at fifty cents a throw. He is a lucky chap, indeed! He got up something that we need, The way he's making money is a shame; It's not five years ago, I swear, he only had one suit to wear And didn't have a dollar to his name. 'There goes a man immensely rich, who was a digger in the ditch Ten years ago, but fortune came his way; I cannot now recall to mind just what it is that he designed, But he got wealth and glory in a day. How fortunate some fellows are! They're born beneath a lucky star — I knew him when he didn't have a cent; And now he owns his house and lot — Too bad, that's something I've forgot, I don't know now just what he did invent.' I said: 'Some fellows strike it rich, but somehow, I've a notion, which Is that you never saw a lucky shirk; I never knew a lazy moke that wasn't nearly always broke — The men who get the money have to work. I do not view with discontent, nor call them lucky who invent The things that quickly bring great fortunes in; The poor men of five years ago, who now possess a 'wad of dough' But prove to me that industry can win.'