The Kidder                                                                                                   

The kid was born with a roguish grin;
He kidded his parents from the start.
He smiled and gurgled his way within
The warmest chamber of every heart.
His grin was warm, but his nerve was cool,
And so, though never a shark for knowledge,
He laughed and kidded his way through school,
And joshed and jollied his way through college.

He kidded himself to a pleasant job;
His rise in life was a swift progression,
For, though he hadn't a brilliant knob.
He kidded his boss to that impression.
If you should view him with expert eyes,
He really hadn't a lot to show;
But people thought him extremely wise--
he kidded 'em into thinking so.

He jollied his path to the social crest
With a sparkling charm that naught could dim,
And he picked a queen of the very best
And kidded her into wedding him.
He swims in power, he rolls in pelf;
He's won to honor and high degree;
He's kidded the whole world--and himself,
Till--he is all that he seems to be.

And what's the moral of all this stuff?
The moral's one that I won't keep hid;
That, if a kidder is good enough,
The world's his oyster--and that's "no kid!"

Published in: The Popular Magazine - June 20, 1927

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