A Feller’s Hat By Edgar Albert Guest

A Feller’s Hat

It’s funny ’bout a feller’s hat-
He can’t remember where it’s at,
Or where he took it off, or when,
The time he’s wantin’ it again.
He knows just where he leaves his shoes;
His sweater he won’t often lose;
An’ he can find his rubbers, but
He can’t tell where his hat is put.

A feller’s hat gets anywhere.
Sometimes he’ll find it in a chair,
Or on the sideboard, or maybe
It’s in the kitchen, just where he
Gave it a toss beside the sink
When he came in to get a drink,
An’ then forgot- but anyhow
He never knows where it is now.

A feller’s hat is never where
He thinks it is when he goes there;
It’s never any use to look
For it upon a closet hook,
‘Cause it is always in some place
It shouldn’t be, to his disgrace,
An’ he will find it, like as not,
Behind some radiator hot.

A feller’s hat can get away
From him most any time of day,
So he can’t ever find it when
He wants it to go out again;
It hides in corners dark an’ grim
An’ seems to want to bother him;
It disappears from sight somehow-
I wish I knew where mine is now.

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