Dick Bumble, with a bag of grain, Was going out to grind it, When through the bag the bullet tore And left a hole behind it!
Dick neither knew the bag was pinked, Nor that a hole was in it, And wondered why the load he bore Grew lighter every minute.
Peter Newell, The Hole Book, New York, Harper & Brothers, 1908, plate 11.
[large] [cover] [title page] [Peter Newell]
Online edition by Marco Graziosi, December 1999. [nonsenselit.org]
FastCounter by bCentral