By William Brighty Rands
Lives in a tangle;
You never know where to take him:
His head is immense,
And he might talk sense
Perhaps, if you could but make him.
But he says that a tailor has a tail,
And every sailor is made for sale,
Also that bunting is made of buns!
But everybody can see at once
That this is nonsense. And yet his head
Is large, and he calls himself well read!
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