He may not lack in learnin' and he may not want fer brains;
He may be always workin' with the patientest of pains,
And yet go unrewarded, an', my friends, how can we know
What heights he might have climbed to but fer the undertow?
You've heard the Yankee story of the hen's nest with a hole,
An' how the hen kept layin' eggs with all her might an' soul,
Yet never got a settin', not a single egg, I trow;
That hen was simply kickin' 'gainst a hidden undertow.
There's holes in lots of hen's nests, an' you've got to peep below
To see the eggs a-rollin' where they hadn't ought to go.
Don't blame a man fer failin' to achieve a laurel crown
Until you're sure the undertow aint draggin' of him down.
MARKETING
ANONYMOUS
A little girl goes to market for her mother.
Butcher.—"Well, little girl, what can I do for you?"
Little Girl.—"How much is chops this morning, mister?"
B.—"Chops, 20 cents a pound, little girl."
L. G.—"Oh! 20 cents a pound for chops; that's awful expensive. How much is steak?"
B.—"Steak is 22 cents a pound."