Albert Schirding

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Albert Schirding

Jonas Keene thought his lot a hard one

Because his children were all failures.

But I know of a fate more trying than that:

It is to be a failure while your children are successes.

For I raised a brood of eagles

Who flew away at last, leaving me

A crow on the abandoned bough.

Then, with the ambition to prefix Honorable to my name,

And thus to win my children’s admiration,

I ran for County Superintendent of Schools,

Spending my accumulations to win⁠—and lost.

That fall my daughter received first prize in Paris

For her picture, entitled, The Old Mill⁠—

(It was of the water mill before Henry Wilkin put in steam.)

The feeling that I was not worthy of her finished me.