IN se’enteen hunder’n forty-nine,
The deil gat stuff to mak a swine,
An’ coost it in a corner;
But wilily he chang’d his plan,
An’ shap’d it something like a man,
An’ ca’d it Andrew Turner.
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A stockbroker urged me to buy a stock that would triple its value every year. I told him, "At my age, I don't even buy green bananas.