THE TOWN OF NOGOOD by W. E. Penney

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Dec 22, 1898

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 24, No. 51.

THE TOWN OF NOGOOD.

By W. E. Penney

My friend, have you heard of the town of Nogood, On the banks of the River Slow, Where blooms the Waitawhile flower fair, Where the Sometimeorother scents the air, And the soft Goeasys grow?

It lies in the valley of Whatstheuse, In the province of Let’erslide; That Tiredfeeling is native there. It’s the home of the reckless Idon’tcare, Where the Giveitups abide.

It stands at the bottom of Lazy hill, And is easy to reach, I declare. You’ve only to fold up your hands and glide Down the slope of Weakwill’s toboggan slide, To be landed quickly there.

The town is as old as the human race, And it grows with the flight of years. It is wrapt in the fog of idler’s dreams; Its streets are paved with discarded schemes, And sprinkled with useless tears.

The Collegebred fool and the Richman’s heir Are plentiful there, no doubt. The rest of its crowd are a motley crew, With every class except one in view— The Foolkiller is barred out.

The town of Nogood is all hedged about By the mountains of Despair. No sentinel stands on its gloomy walls, No trumpet to battle and triumph calls, For cowards alone are there.

My friend, from the dead-alive town Nogood If you would keep far away, Just follow your duty through good and ill; Take this for your motto, “I can, I will,” And live up to it each day.

— W. E. Penney.