LACK OF WORRY.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16321, 10 January 1921, Page 6

LACK OF WORRY.

(By WALT MASONL There's nothing 1 can worry o’er, in. all my daily round, and so my heart is sad and sore, and briny tears abound. The larder’s stocked with luscious pies, the cellar’s full of spuds, and every trsc ruing, when I rise, I have a change of duds. Tho diamonds on my harness clank, I have silk shirts galore, and 1 have money in the bank, and credit at the store. No man can say I am in debt, for this or that or those, and so I've no excuse to fret or nurse a string of woes. And, having no excuse to brood, I brood and fret and cuss, and in a fierce and bitter mood I make a ghastly fuss. For worry is a state of mind that every man enjoys, and he grows weary of his grind if not a thing annoys. Without a grievance man is lost, his mental innards ache; he’ll find a woe at any cost, e’en though it be a fake. And so I grumble when it rains and file a savage roar, and when the sunshine gilds the plains, 1 grumble all the more. Man wasn’t born to go his way without a cross or care; some ill should prod him every day, or he is in despair. A sugar diet fattens men but undermines the spine ; a dash of bitters now and then, or vinegar, is fine.