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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=353828" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fellow Citizens</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I drank musty ale at the Illinois Athletic Club with <br>the millionaire manufacturer of Green River butter <br>one night <br>And his face had the shining light of an old-time Quaker, <br>he spoke of a beautiful daughter, and I knew he had <br>a peace and a happiness up his sleeve somewhere. <br>Then I heard Jim Kirch make a speech to the Advertising <br>Association on the trade resources of South America. <br>And the way he lighted a three-for-a-nickel stogie and <br>cocked it at an angle regardless of the manners of <br>our best people, <br>I knew he had a clutch on a real happiness even though <br>some of the reporters on his newspaper say he is <br>the living double of Jack London's Sea Wolf. <br>In the mayor's office the mayor himself told me he was <br>happy though it is a hard job to satisfy all the office- <br>seekers and eat all the dinners he is asked to eat. <br>Down in Gilpin Place, near Hull House, was a man with <br>his jaw wrapped for a bad toothache, <br>And he had it all over the butter millionaire, Jim Kirch <br>and the mayor when it came to happiness. <br>He is a maker of accordions and guitars and not only <br>makes them from start to finish, but plays them <br>after he makes them. <br>And he had a guitar of mahogany with a walnut bottom <br>he offered for seven dollars and a half if I wanted it, <br>And another just like it, only smaller, for six dollars, <br>though he never mentioned the price till I asked him, <br>And he stated the price in a sorry way, as though the <br>music and the make of an instrument count for a <br>million times more than the price in money. <br>I thought he had a real soul and knew a lot about God. <br>There was light in his eyes of one who has conquered <br>sorrow in so far as sorrow is conquerable or worth <br>conquering. <br>Anyway he is the only Chicago citizen I was jealous of <br>that day. <br>He played a dance they play in some parts of Italy <br>when the harvest of grapes is over and the wine <br>presses are ready for work.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Carl+Sandburg">Carl Sandburg</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=353828" data-title="Fellow Citizens de Carl Sandburg" data-description="I drank musty ale at the Illinois Athletic Club with 
the millionaire manufacturer of Green River butter 
one night 
And his face had the shining light of an old-time Quaker, 
he spoke of a beautiful daughter, and I knew he had 
a peace and a happ..."></div>
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