An Autumn Lament

An Autumn Lament.

I lay it away on the topmost shelf

And cover it up with care,

While I think of the affable bunko man

Who told me how well it would wear.

" 'Twill last a lifetime, sir." he said.

"It never will go out of style.

You'll have all the Willies and Johnnies in town

Skinned about half of a mile.

"It'll never get dirty nor bend out of shape;

You'll look like a millionaire's son.

They'll think you're a planter from Panama. sure;

You'll have 'em all on the dead run."

So I put up my money and took it away;

I've worn it the long summer today;

The sight of it makes me quite blue.

Ive seen them marked down to a dollar 'n' a half

And given away with each suit;

They're made in a sweatshop and sold by the ton;

The small ones are thrown in to boot.

You can't tell what they'll be wearing next year-

Aluminum, hay or spun grass-

But it's a dead cinch that the panama hat

Will be down in the "also ran" class

So I lay it away on the topmost shelf,

And I cover it up with care,

While I think of the affable bunko man

Who told me how long it would wear.

" 'Twill last you a lifetime, sire," he said,

And, really, I can believe that,

For I never, no never, shall wear it again-

My twelve dollar panama hat.

Winfield Hogaboom in Sunset Magazine 

For October.