Manuscript: Something Submitted In Haste

Only The Young Die Good.

The Elf And The Dormouse Under A Toadstool Crept A Wee Elf, Out Of The Rain To Shelter Himself. Under The Toadstool, Sound Asleep, Sat A Big Dormouse All In A Heap. Trembled The Wee Elf, Frightened And Yet Fearing To Fly Away Lest He Get Wet. To The Next Shelter-maybe A Mile! Sudden The Wee Elf Smiled A Wee Smile. Tugged Till The Toadstool Toppled In Two. Holding It Over Him, Gaily He Flew. Soon He Was Safe Home, Dry As Could Be. Soon Woke The Dormouse-"good Gracious Me!" "where Is My Toadstool?" Loud He Lamented. -and That's How Umbrellas First Were Invented.

When I Go Abroad I Always Sail From Boston Because It Is Such A Pleasant Place To Get Away From.

Some Take Their Gold In Minted Mold, And Some In Harps Thereafter, But Give Me Mine In Bubbles Fine And Keep The Change In Laughter.

My Wife Has A Whim Of Iron.