He’s got a poultice on his brow
Of the size of the foot of a brindle cow.
Now study the ways of the world, my son; oh,
study the ways of life!
It’s the hustling chap that gets the cash, or the
girl he wants for a wife;
It’s the feller that spots the place to grab, when
Chance goes swinging by,
Who gets his dab in the juiciest place and the
biggest plum in the pie;