Like the birds, he waz born happy, and like them he seems tew enjoy it.
The world calls him almost a phool, but his happy ness iz worth more, and cost less than wisdum.
But i consider happiness the easiest tew manage when thare aint much ov it.
Our wretched wants, though they are what makes a man more than a brute, are just what reduces our happyness by expanding it.
Evryboddy kan tell his nabor tew be contented with what he haz got, (this is good news,) but noboddy but a phool can foller it.
Phools are alwus happy, but alas! they don't know it.
Still, thare aint no arithmetic for happiness—a man has to be measured for hiz happiness just az he duz for hiz boots, and then he aint sure but what they will pinch somewhare.
THE HANDSOME MAN AND PRETTY WOMAN.
Buty iz one ov them kind ov conquests that don't last long.
It is a kind ov raid, which surprises, but kant hold the territory which it invades.