Tuesday, March 24, 2020

I'm a Stranger Here Myself

Is the title of a volume by Ogden Nash from a 1938 collection.
If I were to speak at an open mike,
I would read from page 144 to 146
The Strange Case of Mr. Fortague's Disappointment 

Once upon a time there was a man named Mr. Lionel
       Fortague.

He didn't have much to talk about.

In summer he used to ask people if it was hot enough
      for them.

It always was.

In winter he used to ask people if it was cold enough
       for them.

It always was..

Mr. Lionel Fortague got pretty sick of people it was
       hot enough for.

He got pretty sick of people it was cold enough for, too.

He decided he would arise and go now.

He decided he would go to Innisfree.

The people of Innisfree are different, thought Mr.
      Lionel Fortague. 

As soon as he got to Innisfree he asked the people if
       it was cold enough for them.

They asked him What?  Was what cold enough for
        who?

Mr. Lionel Fortague was delighted.

I knew Innisfree would be different, he said to himself.

He could hardly wait for summer to verify his con-
      clusion.

As soon as summer came he asked everybody if it was
        hot enough for them.

Everybody said the question was familiar but they
        couldn't remember the answer.

Mr. Lionel Fortague said he would settle down on
      Innisfree, the home of iridescent chitchat.

He said he would a small cabin build there, of clay
       and wattles made.

Everybody said did he mean he would build a small
        cabin there, made of clay and wattles?

Mr. Lionel Fortague said yes, but his way of putting
       it was more poetic.

Everybody said maybe, but they were all out of wattles.

Mr. Lionel Fortague grew very angry at the people of
       Innisfree.

He a small cabin built there, of clay and beaverboard
       made.

He a fierce-looking dog at an annual clearance sale
      bought, and it the people of Innisfree one by one
      to bite he instructed.

My, he was disappointed.

He had forgotten that a bargain dog never bites.


Edward Lear.




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