Following Advice

The Right Thing to Do

I saw a neighbour’s dog one day floundering in mud;
its eyes were looking rather sad, its ears were dripping blood.
It would have been an easy job to grab that woeful pet
and carry it in tender arms straight to a nearby vet;
but I had read some sage advice, which surely must be true,
that
           the right thing to do is always
           the hard thing to do,
wherefore I kicked that dog back home and rendered it for glue.

As I was driving, late one night, towards a country town
I saw a waving, weeping lass whose car had broken down.
It would have been a simple task to give that girl a lift
and take her safely into town, ensuring aid was swift;
but I had heard some sound advice, endorsed by quite a few,
that
           the right thing to do is always
           the hard thing to do,
wherefore I carved that crying girl then cooked her in a stew.

As I was passing by a school I saw an odd device.
It proved to be a bomb of sorts concealed by melting ice.
It would have taken little sweat to warn the school and bear
that nasty hazard far away, whilst handling it with care;
but I had seen some great advice, the wisest words I knew,
that
           the right thing to do is always
           the hard thing to do,
wherefore I built a wooden box to hide that bomb from view.

At any time, for many folk, the right and proper course
is obvious and simple, needing no official force.
The proper thing to do, at times, is almost effortless:
to speak the truth, do honest work, and when at fault confess;
but I have read some odd advice—some teachers so construe!—
that
           the right thing to do is always
           the hard thing to do.
Those teachers’ jobs and expertise necessitate review.

See the counsel within “Habits of the Mind” from the School Planner which I quoted previously:

The right thing to do is always
the hard thing to do.