There Was An Old Man Of Messina,

There Was An Old Man With An Owl, Who Continued To Bother And Howl; He Sate On A Rail, And Imbibed Bitter Ale, Which Refreshed That Old Man And His Owl.

In The Middle Of The Woods Lived The Yonghy-bonghy-bo. Two Old Chairs And Half A Candle, One Old Jug Without A Handle- These Were All The Worldly Goods.

They Went To Sea In A Sieve, They Did; In A Sieve They Went To Sea; In Spite Of All Their Friends Could Say.

When Awful Darkness And Silence Reign Over The Great Gromboolian Plain, Through The Long, Long Wintry Nights.

I Am Almost Thanking God That I Was Never Educated, For It Seems To Me That 999 Of Those Who Are So, Expensively And Laboriously, Have Lost All Before They Arrive At My Age-& Remain Like Swift's Stulbruggs-cut And Dry For Life, Making No Use Of Their Earlier-gained Treasures:-whereas, I Seem To Be On The Threshold Of Knowledge.