He is the greatest poet
Who will renounce all art
And take his heart and show it
To any other heart;
Who writes no learned riddle,
But sings his simplest rune,
Takes his heart-strings for a fiddle,
And plays his easiest tune."

Mr. Foss _always_ had to recite the following poem when he called
at Breezy Meadows

THE CONFESSIONS OF A LUNKHEAD

I'm a lunkhead, an' I know it; 'taint no use to squirm an' talk,
I'm a gump an' I'm a lunkhead, I'm a lummux, I'm a gawk,
An' I make this interduction so that all you folks can see
An' understan' the natur' of the critter thet I be.

I allus wobble w'en I walk, my j'ints are out er gear,
My arms go flappin' through the air, jest like an el'phunt's ear;
An' when the womern speaks to me I stutter an' grow weak,
A big frog rises in my throat, an' he won't let me speak.

Wall, that's the kind er thing I be; but in our neighborhood
Lived young Joe Craig an' young Jim Stump an' Hiram Underwood.
We growed like corn in the same hill, jest like four sep'rit stalks;
For they wuz lunkheads, jest like me, an' lummuxes and gawks.

Now, I knew I wuz a lunkhead; but them fellers didn't know,
Thought they wuz the biggest punkins an' the purtiest in the row.
An' I, I uster laff an' say, "Them lunkhead chaps will see
W'en they go out into the worl' w'at gawky things they be."

Joe Craig was a lunkhead, but it didn't get through his pate;
I guess you all heerd tell of him--he's governor of the state;
Jim Stump, he blundered off to war--a most uncommon gump--
Didn't know enough to know it--'an he came home General Stump.

Then Hiram Underwood went off, the bigges' gawk of all,
We hardly thought him bright enough to share in Adam's fall;
But he tried the railroad biz'ness, an' he allus grabbed his share,--
Now this gawk, who didn't know it, is a fifty millionaire.

An' often out here hoein' I set down atween the stalks,
Thinkin' how we four together all were lummuxes an' gawks,
All were gumps and lunkheads, only they didn't know, yer see;
An' I ask, "If I hadn' known it, like them other fellers there,
Today I might be settin' in the presidential chair."

We all are lunkheads--don't get mad--an' lummuxes and gawks,
But us poor chaps who know we be--we walk in humble walks.
So, I say to all good lunkheads, "Keep yer own selves in the dark