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FABLES FOR THE FRIVOLOUS

And in his dim, uncertain sight Whatever wasn't must be right, From which it follows he had strong Convictions that what was, was wrong.
As thus he sat beneath an oak  An acorn fell abruptly And smote his nose: whereat he spoke  Of acorns most corruptly. "Great Scott!" he cried. "The Dickens!" too, And other authors whom he knew, And having duly mentioned those, He expeditiously arose.
Then, though with pain he nearly swooned,  He bathed his organ nasal With arnica, and soothed the wound  With extract of witch hazel; And surely we may well excuse The victim if he changed his views: "If pumpkins fell from trees like that," He murmured, " Where would I be at?"

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