Beyond the Isle of What’s-the-Use,
Where Slipshod Point is now,
There used to be, when I was young,
The Land of Anyhow.
Don’t Care was king of all this realm--
A cruel king was he!
For those who served him with good heart
He treated shamefully!
When boys and girls their tasks would slight
And cloud poor mother’s brow,
He’d say, “Don’t care! It’s good enough!
Just do it anyhow.”
But when in after life they longed
To make proud fortune bow,
He let them find that fate ne’er smiles
On work done anyhow.
For he who would the harvest reap
Must learn to use the plow,
And pitch his tent a long, long way
From the Land of Anyhow!
--_Canadian Presbyterian._
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