My brother was a stupid fool
A bounder and a cad
A poltroon, a newt, a crap-for-brains
A twit and really bad.
There was nothing good to say of him
The cowardly, whining, prat
He would snatch a wig from cancer kid
And trade it for a gat.
He cheated at cards, he loaded dice
He would backstab a poor old nun
There was nothing too low for him to try
Nothing under the sun.
We prayed for him both day and night
That he'd reform his ways
But we tracked him by his trail of slime
From Machiasport to Fort Hayes.
But he was lost to us we knew
Tho' we prayed for him, row on row,
When we learned he'd moved to Southern Cal
And the town called San Diego.

          --Ebeneezer Abner Postpartum
            Of Me and Mine: Poems of Family
            London-Unter-Thames, 1902