Smiling The Boy Fell Dead.

But What If I Fail Of My Purpose Here? It Is But To Keep The Nerves At Strain, To Dry One's Eyes And Laugh At A Fall, And Baffled, Get Up And Begin Again.

All Poetry Is Difficult To Read - The Sense Of It Anyhow.

Boot, Saddle, To Horse, And Away!

Fail I Alone, In Words And Deeds? Why, All Men Strive And Who Succeeds?

So Munch On, Crunch On, Take Your Nuncheon, Breakfast, Supper, Dinner, Luncheon!