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P
ERHAPS you may have met her, she is genial for a chat And will entertain you nobly, with a stock of " this and that"; She mill draw her chair up closely, and sort o' whisper low And tell more in a minute than you ever thought to know. If a person once has crossed her, that is the ugly thorn Which has festered in the system, since the sad day it was born; And nothing on Earth's footstool so well, it seems, applies As to magnify the trouble, before the neighbors' eyes. This class of people, mind you, we find in every town; They serve as mischief makers, if they are up or down; Instead of dropping good words, and drinking from life's spring, The venom is in evidence--the serpent with a sting. If you wish to be real happy, don't be a gossip, pray; If you wish to sow the flowers, cut the weeds and thorns away; If you wish to be real happy, the world will surely know; Keep silent if no good to tell, and let the gossip go. |