Be very wary of Hats.
They’ll abandon your crania, fly off like bats,
and will ruin your rep in Society.
With unquestionable insobriety
one may flop on your head
and pretend to be dead
then vamoose like a thief
and airmail itself back to the Baron Moncrieff
with you paying.
I’d not trust a hat if it paid me.
I’d not trust a hat if it laid me.
And many’s the hat that has.
It’s their sinister razzmatazz.
You’ve only to be its most casual friend
to insure an ignoble, unspeakable end.
Leave it on the rack.
Never look back.