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Preacher's Pay
-- by M. E. (Buddy) Upchurch -- sent in by Mary Sullivan - rhyme@texas.net

Four little boys were heard one day,
While they were ardently at play,
Discussing in their childlike way
Whose father drew the biggest pay.

The banker's boy said, "I declare
My daddy is a millionaire.
Your dads with him will not compare.
This is the truth. It is, I swear!"

Another boy said, with effect,
"My daddy is an architect.
A thousand dollars, I suspect,
Most every day he will collect."

The doctor's boy said, with accent,
"You'd think my daddy owned a mint,"
And said, to help his argument,
"He makes a lot by accident."

The preacher's son said, "I submit
My daddy makes no little bit.
On Sunday morning, you'll admit
It takes six men to carry it."


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