The Poetry Corner

The Paths Of Rashness

By Ringgold Wilmer Lardner

Up to the sky the birdman flew And looped some loops that were bold and new. The people marvelled at nerve so great And gasped or cheered as he tempted fate, More daring each day than the day before, Till the birdman fell and arose no more. The bandit bragged of his daylight crimes And said: "I'm the wonder of modern times." Bolder and bolder his thefts became, And the people shook when they heard his name. He boasted: "I'm one that they'll never get." But he jollied himself into Joliet. Well, son, I suppose you would be admired For the valorous habit that you've acquired Of rushing at each little girl you meet And hugging her tight in the public street. But the day will come, I have not a doubt, When you'll stagger home with an eye scratched out.