You want to be making presents;

Well now just think awhile;

Suppose you look in the glass dear,

And present yourself with a smile.

Then make up a bundle of troubles

And give them away to the past

He owns such a croony old junk shop

Where worn out worries are cast.

And then give praise to the best things

In the people you meet this year;

And when you are hurt by folly

And faults of the people you know

Just toss them a bit of your patience

And a word of pity or so.

May 18, 1919.