And, while his busy neighbors all about him worked and throve,
He just kept on a-talking more and more;
Kept on a-getting poorer, and, while time it hauled and tacked,
Hank had to make a meal off just a crumb,
Till death it had to take him,—caught him in the very act
Of waiting for a brain-wave to come.
Labor is the genius that changes the world from ugliness to beauty, and changes the great curse to a great blessing.—Opie Read.
The man that’s born a genius,—well, I s’pose he’s bound to win,
But most of us are born the other way;
And, after all is said and done, the man who pitches in