A big silver dollar and a little brown centRolling along together they went,
Rolling along the smooth sidewalk,
When the dollar remarked-for the dollar can talk,
You poor little cent, you cheap little mite,
I'm bigger and more than twice as bright;
I'm worth more than you a hundredfold,
And written on me in letters bold,
Is the motto drawn from the pious creed,
And I know I'm not big, nor good, nor' bright.
And yet, said the cent, with a meek little sigh,
You don't go to Church as often as I.