Tli e path thet leads to a Loaf of Bread Wlnds ttirough the Swampi of Tul), And thH paih timt leads to a Kult oí Clotues Goes throagh a llowerless solí. And the path tiiat lead to the Loaf of Bread And the bult of Clothea are hard to tread. And tbe path that wlnds to a House of Your own Climba over the bowldered bilis. And the patb that leads to a Bank Account Isswept by a blaat tbat kllls; But the men wbo start In tbe patbs to-day 1 ii tbe Lazy nula may go astray. In the Lazy IIllls are trees of shade Ily ttie lirnoks of Sleep, And the rolllcking Klver of Pleasure laughs A ml gainbols down tbe steep; But wlieu the blust of the winter coma The brooks and rivera are (rozen dumb. Tlion woe to those in the Laïy Hills When the blasta of winter moau, Wbo strayed from the patb to a Bank Aocount And tbe patb to a House of Thelr Own; jmth are hard in Ibe suinmer heat. Uut In winter tbey lead toa auug rot reut.