When cares attack and life seems black,
How sweet it is to pot a chap
To take the creature by surprise
We must adopt some rude disguise,
Although deceit is never sweet,
And falsehoods don't attract us;
So, as with gun in hand you wait,
Remember to impersonate
A kindly Plod
who cares a sod
A brief suspense, and then at last
The waiting's o'er, the vigil past;
A careful aim. A spurt of flame.
It's done. You've pulled the trigger,
And one more fool so 'fraid and frail,
Has handed in his dinner-pail;
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With apologies to the author, P.G.Wodehouse, see
http://wonderingminstrels.blogspot.com/2004/08/good-gnus-p-g-wodehouse.html
