But if there is a thing that makes me sad,
Or drives me into desperation, nearly mad,
It is to see behind a great cigar
A youngster who, if his good pa and ma
Knew what the little fellow was about,
Would quickly put their tempers, and his smoking, out.
But arguments are needed; it will not take me long
To find a backer to my statement that tobacco smoking’s wrong.
And first—If I’d a puppy, and I wanted all to know
That I could stop his growth and keep him low,