Bad Luck

A poem by Madison Julius Cawein

Once a rabbit crossed my road
When I went to see my aunt;
And another time a toad
Hopped right in my way. You can't
Kill toads, for that makes it rain,
And would spoil your day again.

But the rabbit if I could
I'd have killed him. For one day
Once a boy he told me, "Should
A wild rabbit cross your way,
Look out for bad luck that is,
If your fingers ain't cross-criss."

But if I had shot him dead
I'd not been unlucky; no;
And not fallen out of bed
That same night; or stumped my toe
Playing"I Spy"; nor the string
Broken when I went to swing.

Talk about bad luck! I guess
That old rabbit brought it. Well;
Maudie had on her new dress,
And I pushed her, and she fell
In a creek-hole, where you're bound
To get wet so Maudie found.

I I pulled her out that is,
Buddie helped me. Bud's a boy
Who was fishing there. And Liz,
Maud's old nurse, she took my toy,
My toy-whip, and she was mad
Whipped my legs and called me bad.

Then she said Maud might have drowned;
And the creek was full of"dumb
Pollywogs and snakes "; a sound
Whipping just might help me some:
Maybe Maud would catch a cold
And my mother should be told.

No, sir. I don't want to see
Any rabbits anyways
Cross my road. Why, gemenie!
(That's a swear-word Maudie says)
If I saw one only one,
I would turn and run and run.

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