Even though antics of the
Klown Kar swirling around the White House provides sufficient laughs for a
couple of decades, I think it’s time for something genuinely, harmlessly silly.
So, Edward Lear.
There was an Old Man on
a hill,
Who seldom, if ever,
stood still;
He ran up and down,
In his Grandmother’s
gown,
Which adorned that Old
Man on a hill.
(TBH, going all round
the town in women’s clothes isn’t that much of a big deal where I come from. In
fly-over country, though…)
There was an Old Man
with a flute,
A sarpint ran into his
boot;
But he played daay and
night,
Till the sarpint took
flight,
And avoided that man
with a flute.
And here’s a version of the
one about the Old Person from Ware (which my great-grandmother used to recite
to us)—used in one of those periodicals for kids, Puzzle-Fun Comics, Spring 1946:
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