I Yield To My Learned Brother Or Is There A Candlestick Maker In The House?

The doctor gets you when you’re born, The preacher, when you marry, And the lawyer lurks with costly clerks If too much on you carry. Professional men, they have no cares; Whatever happens, they get theirs. You can’t say When To professional men, For it’s always When to they; They go out and golf With the big bad wolf In the most familiar way. Hard times for them contain no terrors; Their income springs from human errors. The noblest lord is ushered in By the practicing physician, And the humblest lout is ushered out By a certified mortician. And in between, they find their foyers Alive with summonses from lawyers. Oh, would my parents long ago Had memorized this motto! For then might I, their offspring, buy A Rolls or an Isotto. But now I fear I never can, For I am no professional man. You can’t say When To professional men, For it’s always When to they; They were doing fine In '29, And they’re doing fine today.