Now Jerry was an elder, a presbyter, you see,
Who prated loud ’gainst drinking, but “sneaked one” frequently.
Tom Benton was no tippler, but took one when he would,
No sweeter, kinder fellow e’er lived, nor half so good.
His quiet deeds of kindness, a help now here, now there,
A “candle under bushel” who always seemed to care
To help the weak and erring in unobtrusive way;
To make the lowly happy, and aching hearts make gay
By quip or jest or story, by his own soulful smile,
By merry rippling laughter, which heartened them awhile—