﻿T-BONE SLIM DISCUSSES HOW DO THEY DO IT? 
 
(Read ‘em “und” weep) 
Each day he did his humble”‘stunts” with carelessness; and slow— 
As if his every effort was a siege of direst woe. 
His work was very urgent work, but not exactly fun— 
And so, ho loafed and loafed and loafed—his work was never done. 
—;A dream of calm tranquillity “was settling on his chest.” 
And all the while he longed to pull the stunt that’s known as “rest.” 
II 
The slightest effcrt- seemed to wrench his manly soul apart; 
And, as to work, that gentle kid, he didn’t have the heart— 
But, still and all, he did excel in gazing at the clock; 
And he was extra good in keeping two eyes on the boss. 
Whatever he was told to do, he wouldn’t do it right 
And bosses swore that man and boy, “he isn’t extry bright,” 
III 
He disappeared, for several years— 
How memories will cling? 
When he returned—we learned he was a Great Industrial King! 
—In school he was a dumbbell— in college just a nut— 
—In workshops “just a nuisance”; for every joke a butt— 
He died at last, in middle age, too roft to longer wave— 
And all the local liars gathered on the poof man’s grave. 
—T-b S.