Walt Mason Wrote:The merchant said in caustic tones:
“James Henry Charles Augustus Jones,
Please get your pay and leave the store
I will not need you any more
Important chores you seem to shun
You’re always leaving work undone
And when I ask the reason why,
You heave a sad and soulful sigh
And idly scratch your dome of thought,
And feebly say,” Oh, I forgot!”
James Henry Charles Augustus Jones,
This world is a poor resort for drones,
For men with heads so badly set
That their long suit is to forget.

No man will ever write his name
Upon the shining wall of fame,
Or soar aloft on glowing wings
Because he can’t remember things.
I’ve noticed that such chaps as you
Remember when your pay is due;
And when the noontime whistles throb,
Your memory is on the job;
And when a holiday’s at hand,
Your recollection isn’t canned.
The failures on life’s busy way,
The paupers, friendless, wan and gray,
Throughout their bootless days, like you,
Forgot the things they ought to do.
So take your coat, and draw your bones

James Henry Charles Augustus Jones!”