96 ILLINOIS STATE DAIRYMEN'S ASSOCIATION. 



The poor man, weary with cares of the day, 

 His head on his pillow of down he lay, 

 His weary eyes closed for their needed repose 

 And visions of dreamland before him arose. 



In a room very cosy and spacious he sat, 



Surrounded by men from this state and that, 



All seemingly ready their tongues to wag 



And all filled full of the word we call brag. i 



Tripp was there with that smile serene, 

 That smile at conventions most always seen. 

 "If you want to make butter without a fault- 

 Do as I tell you — use Genesee salt.*' 



Then Bates loomed up in his bland way, 



Which is almost certain to win the day. 



"If you want to make butter like your grandmother uster 



Put nothing in it but the world-renouned Worcester." 



Then Riley M. Bates arose from his seat. 



"The salt which I sell can hardly be beat. 



You may pound, you may crush till your face is aflame, 



Those beautiful crystals remain just the same." 



Then another salt man appeared on the field. 



"The use of my salt will increase your yield. 



If you want to make butter that will score 98, 



Use the sait that was made in Michigan state." i 



"Sudy" was there, but had no competition, 



For his color alone receives recognition. 



As well you might stop the turbulent flood f 



As to stop him from selling the kind without mud. 



