But The Air's So Appetizin'; And The

Oh, The World's A Curious Compound, With Its Honey And Its Gall, With Its Cares And Bitter Crosses, But A Good World After All. And A Good God Must Have Made It-leastways, That Is What I Say, When A Hand Is On My Shoulder In A Friendly Sort Of Way.

To Make The World A Friendly Place, One Must Show It A Friendly Face.

But The Air's So Appetizin'; And The Landscape Through The Haze Of A Crisp And Sunny Morning Of The Airly Autumn Days Is A Pictur' That No Painter Has The Colorin' To Mock-when The Frost Is On The Punkin And The Fodder's In The Shock.

Long About Knee-deep In June, 'bout The Time Strewberries Melts On The Vine.

One Naked Star Has Waded Through The Purple Shallows Of The Night, And Faltering As Falls The Dew It Drips Its Misty Light.