There's a man in the world who is never turned down, wherever he
chances to stray; he gets the glad hand in the populous town, or
out where the farmers make hay; he's greeted with pleasure on
deserts of sand, and deep in the aisles of the woods; wherever he
goes there's the welcoming hand-he's The Man Who Delivers The
Goods. The failures of life sit around and complain; the gods
haven't treated them white; they've lost their umbrellas whenever
there's rain, and they haven't their lanterns at night; men tire of
the failures who fill with their sighs the air of their own
neighborhoods; there's one who is greeted with love-lighted
eyes-he's The Man Who Delivers The Goods. One fellow is lazy, and
watches the clock, and waits for the whistle to blow; and one has a
hammer, with which he will knock, and one tells a story of woe; and
one, if requested to travel a mile, will measure the perches and
roods; but one does his stunt with a whistle or smile -- he's The
Man Who Delivers The Goods....
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