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I’m Okay, You’re a Knave and a Fool

Once where a prophet in the palm shade basked

A traveler chanced at noon to rest his miles.

"What sort of people may they be," he asked,

"In this proud city on the plains o'erspread?"

"Well, friend, what sort of people whence you came?"

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"What sort?" the packman scowled; "why, knaves and fools."

"You'll find the people here the same," the wise man said.

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Another stranger in the dusk drew near,

And pausing, cried, "What sort

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