I Would Like To Throw An Egg

Children, Behold The Chimpanzee: He Sits On The Ancestral Tree From Which We Sprang In Ages Gone.

Age, Like Distance Lends A Double Charm.

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.

Song Is The Licensed Medium For Bawling In Public Things Too Silly Or Sacred To Be Uttered In Ordinary Speech.

Manuscript: Something Submitted In Haste And Returned At Leisure.