human
Concludin' 'twould suit my health the best; Where, how I prospered, I never could tell, But Fortune seemed to like me well; An' somehow every vein I struck Was always bubbling over with luck. An', better than that, I was steady an' true, An' put my good resolutions through. But I wrote to a trusty old neighbor, an' said,
gpt
You tell 'em, old fellow, that I am dead, An' died a Christian; 'twill please 'em more, Than if I had lived the same as before.
human
Your mother's in the poor-house,