The Graduate.

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ou are old, ‘Father World,’” cried the Graduate,

“But for one of your age and size,

I feel it is only my duty to state

You are not uncommonly wise.”

ou are old, ‘Father World,’” cried the Graduate,

“But for one of your age and size,

I feel it is only my duty to state

You are not uncommonly wise.”

“I am aged,” replied Father World, “it is true.

And not very wise I agree.

Do you think tho’ it’s fair for a scholar like you

To abuse an old fossil like me?”

Said the youth, “I refer not to college degrees,

Nor dates that one crams in his skull,

I complain not because you are lacking in these,

But because you’re so awfully dull!

“I have studied you now I should think more or less

For twenty-one years, and I know

You right through and through, and I can but confess

You are really confoundedly slow.”

Said the world, “My dear sir, you are right, there’s no crime

Like dullness—henceforth I will try

To be clever—forgive me! I’m taking your time,

Perhaps we’ll meet later! Good-bye!”

LATER.

“You are cold, Father World, and harden’d forsooth,”

Cried the man, “and exceeding wise,

And for any offensive remarks of my youth

I beg to apologize.”


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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