From Rude Rural Rhymes by Bob Adams, New York: The Macmillan Company; 1925; pp. 186-187.
IT PAYS TO ADVERTISE.
The little flowers by hill and dell
Have learned their little lesson well.
They breathe sweet scents for bees and flies
Because it pays to advertise.
The insect visitors that fall in
Or light upon the edge and crawl in,
The butterflies and bugs and ants
Get pollen on their coats and pants,
And willy-nilly thus they share
In every floral love affair.
If I had peach and apple trees,
I’d put the proper spray on these,
And when the fruit was red and ripe
I’d tell the world in good plain type,
So plain that they who ran might read
And buy the fruit their children need.
That ad, so neatly I would phrase it,
That every dame and gent would praise it.
In long impatient lines they’d stand
To buy the Rural Rhymer brand.
To keep their lungs and livers right
They’d chew my apples day and night.
A primrose by the river’s rim,
[187]
Plain primrose was to me and Jim,
And no one else had greatly prized it
Until the poet advertised it.
The meanest flower that grows I think
Might make a hit through printer’s ink.