The old nag, Pegasus, invites the Jumbler to an introspective mood as he lopes along. It is Thanksgiving, 1917. Am I thankful? Let-me-see— World, Flesh, Devil Good to me; Friends still loyal, Coin in banks— Stop this minute! I'll give thanks. What of troubles Lately past? Well, at least they Didn't last. Not a single Scar remains, Nor remembrance Of the pains. So, I'm thinking That from me There is due great Gobs of glee. Though a slacker, From this day I'll be grateful— Let us Pray! Decorative divider man standing scratching chin and looking at book on table
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