Bad Luck

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.