The Ballad of Hard-Luck Henry
Now wouldn't you expect to find a man an awful crank That's staked out nigh three hundred claims, and every one a blank; That's followed every fool stampede, and seen the rise and fall Of camps where men got gold in chunks and he got none at all; That's prospected a bit of ground and sold it for a song To see it yield a fortune to some fool that came along; That's sunk a dozen bed-rock holes, and not a speck in sight, Yet sees them take a million from the claims to left and right? Now aren't things like that enough to drive a man to booze? But Hard-Luck Smith was hoodoo-proof — he knew the way to lose.