"The prodigal of scripture was a worthless sort of lad;
He had the wanderitis and he had it awful bad;
But when he balked on eating shucks and vowed no
more to roam
He got a lot of credit 'cause he hit the trail for home.
Yes, we hear about the prodigal and what a time he
had,
But nothing of the other boy, who didn't leave his
dad.
He was a patient charley-horse and stayed down on
the farm
To cuff the mules and split the wood to keep the
heater warm.
And when the absent hobo came and made his little
spiel,
The kid went out and skinned a calf, but brother
got the veal."