I still remained behind that cussed piastre,
It loomed up disproportionate like a huge disaster,
Until one day after a plenteous dinner,
Feeling quite satisfied as any sinner,
I fell to thinking of discounts and commissions,
And laid the ghost of that lost buck
By charging it to Foreign Missions.
The virtue of the act gave me relief,
Balanced my cash and stayed my grief,
Now every date whereat I write