Classic Audiobook Collection - Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear ~ Full Audiobook [poetry]

Episode Date: December 21, 2022

Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear audiobook. Genre: poetry This is a collection of some of the delightful nonsense verses and stories by Edward Lear. A lot of them are also my favorites. The Jumblies, The Owl and the Pussy-cat; the Broom, the Shovel, The Poker and the Tongs; The Duck and the Kangaroo; The Cummerbund; The Dong with the Luminous Nose; The New Vestments; Calico Pie; The courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo and Incidents in the Life of My Uncle Arly. Also included at no extra cost are two sections with my favorite Lear limericks. Only about 30 of them but they are all funny and full of delectable silliness. I hope you enjoy listening to these as much as I enjoyed recording them. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:04:38) Chapter 02 (00:06:28) Chapter 03 (00:09:02) Chapter 04 (00:11:18) Chapter 05 (00:13:40) Chapter 06 (00:19:09) Chapter 07 (00:22:15) Chapter 08 (00:23:50) Chapter 09 (00:28:51) Chapter 10 (00:31:38) Chapter 11 (00:37:31) Chapter 12 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Nonsense verses by Edward Lear The Jumblies They went to sea in a sieve they did, In a sieve they went to sea, In spite of all their friends could say, On a winter's morn, on a stormy day, In a sieve they went to sea. And when the sieve turned round and round,

And everyone cried, you'll all be drowned. They cried aloud, Our sieve ain't big, But we don't care a button, we don't care of fig, in a sieve we'll go to sea. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumblies live. Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, and they went to sea in a sieve. They sailed away in a sieve they did. In a sieve they sailed so fast, with only a beautiful pea-green veil, tied with a ribbon by way of a sail, to a small tobacco-pipe mast.

And everyone said, who saw them go, Oh, won't they be soon upset, you know, For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long, And happen what made it's extremely wrong, In a sieve to sail so fast. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumblies live. Their heads are green, and their hens are blue, And they went to sea in a sieve.

The water it soon came in, it took. did, the water it soon came in. So to keep them dry they wrapped their feet in a pinky paper all folded neat, and they fastened it down with a pin, and they passed the night in a crockery jar, and each of them said how wise we are, though the sky be dark and the voyage long, yet we never can think we were rash or wrong while round in our sieve we spin. Far and few, far and few, are the lands where the Jumblies live. Their heads are green and their hands are blue, and they went to sea in a sieve. And all night long they sailed away and when the sun went down.

They whistled and warbled a moony song to the echoing sound of a coppery gong, in the shade of the mountains brown. Oh, Tim Ballow, how happy we are, when we live in a sieve in a crockery jar, and all night long in the moonlight pale we sail away. with a pea-green sail in the shade of the mountains brown. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumblies live. Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, and they went to sea in a sieve. They sailed to the western sea they did, to a land all covered with trees, and they

bought an owl and a useful cart, and a pound of rice and a cranberry tart, and a hive of silvery bees. And they bought a pig and some green jackdaws, and a lovely monkey with lollip-paws, and forty bottles of rainbow rey, and no end of stilton cheese. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumblies live. Their heads are green and their hens are blue, and they went to sea in a sieve. And in twenty years they all came back in twenty years or more. And everyone said, How tall they've grown, for they've been to the lakes in the terrible zone, and the hills of the Chankly Boar. And they drank their health and gave them a feast, of dumplings made of beautiful yeast, and everyone said, if we only live, we too will go

to sea and a sieve to the hills of the Chankly Boar. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumblies live. Their heads are green and their hands are blue, and they went to sea in a sith. End of the Jumblies. Chapter 2 of Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear. This Liebervox recording is in the public domain. The Owl and the Pussy Cat The Owl and the Pussy Cat went to sea in a beautiful pea-green boat. They took some honey and plenty of money, wrapped up in a five-pound note. The owl looked up to the stars above and sang to a small guitar, "'Oh, lovely pussy, oh, pussy, my love, what a beautiful pussy you are, you are, you are, what a beautiful pussy you are.'

"'Pussy said to the owl, you elegant fowl, how charmingly sweet you sing. Oh, let us be married, too long have we tarried, but what shall we do for a ring? They sailed away for a year and a day, to the land where the bong tree grows, and there in a wood a piggy-wig stood, with a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose, with a ring at the end of his nose. Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling, your ring, said the piggy. I will. So they took it away and were married next day by the turkey who lives on the hill.

They dined on mints and slices of quints, which they ate with a runcible spoon. And hand in hand on the edge of the sand, they danced by the light of the moon, the moon, they danced by the light of the moon. End of the owl and the pussycat. Chapter 3 of Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. The broom, the shovel, the poker, and the tongs. The broom and the shovel, the poker and tongs, they all took a drive in the park.

And they each sang a song, ding a dong, ding a dong, before they went back in the dark. Mr. Poker, he sat quite upright. in the coach. Mr. Tongs made a clattering clash. Miss Shovel was dressed all in black with a brooch. Mr.'s broom was in blue with a sash. Ding a-dong, ding-a-dong, and they all sang a song. Oh, shovely, so lovely the poker he sang.

You have perfectly conquered my heart. Ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong, if you're pleased with my song, I will feed you with cold apple-tart. When you scrape up the coals with a delicate sound You enrapture my life with delight Your nose is so shiny, Your head is so round And your shape is so slender and bright Dingadong, ding a dong, ain't you pleased with my song? Alas, Mrs. Broome sighed the tongs in his song,

Oh, is it because I'm so thin And my legs are so long, ding a dong, ding-a-dong, that you don't care about me, a pin? Ah, fairest of creatures, when sweeping the room! Ah, why don't you heed my complaint? Must you needs be so cruel, you beautiful broom, because you are covered with paint? Ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong! You are certainly wrong. Mrs. Broome and Miss Shovel, together they sang, What nonsense you're singing to-day! said the shovel i'll certainly hit you a bang said the broom and i'll sweep you away so the coachman drove homeward as fast as he could perceiving their anger with pain but they put on the kettle and little by little they all became happy again ding a dong ding a dong that's the end of my song end of the broom the shovel the pokers and the tongs

Chapter 4 of Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. The duck and the kangaroo. Said the duck to the kangaroo, good gracious how you hop, Over the fields and the water, too, as if you never would stop. My life is a bore in this nasty pond, and I long to go out in the world beyond. I wish I could hop like you.

said the duck to the kangaroo. "'Please give me a ride on your back,' said the duck to the kangaroo. "'I would sit quite still and say nothing but quack, the hold of the long day through. And we'd go to the D and the jelly-bow-lee, over the land and over the sea. Please take me a ride, oh, do,' said the duck to the kangaroo. Said the kangaroo to the duck, this requires some of the duck. little reflection. Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck, and there seems but one objection, which is, if you let me speak so bold, your feet are in pleasantly wet and cold, and would

probably give me the rue, Matiz said the kangaroo. Said the duck, as I sat on the rocks, I have thought over that completely, and I bought four pairs of worsted socks which fit my web feet neatly. And to keep out the cold I've bought a cloak, and every day a cigar I'll smoke, all to follow my own dear true love of a kangaroo." Said the kangaroo, I'm ready, all in the moonlight pale. But to balance me well, dear duck sit steady, and quite at the end of my tail. So away they went with a hop and a bound, and they hopped the whole world three times round.

and who's so happy, oh who, as the duck and the kangaroo. End of The Duck and the Kangaroo. Chapter 5 of Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear. This Lieber-Vox recording is in the public domain. The Cumberbun, an Indian poem. She sat upon her doby to watch the evening star, and all the Poncas as they passed cried, my, how fair you are! Around her bower with quivering leaves, the tall Kamsamas grew,

and Kit Mugars in wild festoons hung down from Tushkis blue. Below her home the river rolled with soft, melodious sound, where golden-finned Chuprucci's swam, in myriad's circling round. Above on tallest trees remote, Green Ayas perched alone, and all night long the Musak moaned its melancholy tone. And where the purple Nulas threw their branches far and wide, and silvery gory-wala's flew in silence side by side, the little Beasties twittering cry rose on the fragrant air, and off the angry Jam-Pan howled deep in deep in the dark. his hateful lair.

She sat upon her doby. She heard the Nim-knock hum. When all at once a cry arose, The cumber-bun is come. In vain she fled, With open jaws the angry monster followed. And so, before assistant came, That fair lady was swallowed.

They sought in vain for even a bone, Respectfully to bury. They said hers was a dreadful fate, and Echo answered, Very. They nailed her doby to the wall where last her form was seen, And underneath they wrote these words in yellow, blue, and green, Beware, ye fair, ye fair, beware, nor sit out late at night, Lest horrid cumberbuns should come, and swallow you outright. End of the cumberbun.

chapter six of nonsense verses by edward lear this lever box recording is in the public domain the dong with a luminous nose when awful darkness and silence rain over the great grumbullian plain through the long long wintry nights when the angry breakers roar as they beat on the rocky shore when storm clouds brood on the towering heights of the long long wintry nights when the angry breakers roar as they beat on the rocky shore when storm clouds brood on the towering heights of the hills of the Chankly Boar. Then through the vast and gloomy dark there moves what seems a fiery spark, a lonely spark with silvery rays piercing the cold black night, a meteor strange and bright, hither and thither the vision strays, a single lurid light. Slowly it wanders, pauses, creeps. And on its sparkles, flashes, and leaps.

And ever as onward it gleaming goes, a light on the bong tree stems it throws. And those who watch at that midnight hour from hall or terrace or lofty tower, cry as the wild light passes along, the dong, the dong! The wandering dong through the forest goes. The dong, the dong, the dong, the dong with a luminous nose. Long years ago the Dong was happy and gay, till he fell in love with a jumbly girl who came to those shores one day. For the jumblies came in a sieve they did, landing at eve near the Zemmery Fid, where the oblong oysters grow, and the rocks are smooth and gray.

And all the woods and the valleys rang with the chorus they daily and nightly sang, Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumblies live. Their heads are green and their hands are blue, and they went to sea in a sieve. Happily, happily passed those days, while the cheerful jumblies stayed. They danced in circlets all night long, to the plaintive pipe of the lively dawn. In moonlight shine or shade, for day and night he was always there, by the side of the jumbly girl so fair, with her sky-blue hands and her sea-green hair. Till the morning came of that fateful day when the jumbly sailed in their sieve away,

and the dong was left on the cruel shore, gazing, gazing, forever more, ever keeping his weary eyes on, that pea-green sail on the far horizon, singing the jumbly chorus still, as he sat all day on the grassy hill far and few far and few are the lands where the jumblies live their heads are green and their hands are blue and they went to sea in a sieve but when the sun was low in the west the dong arose and said what little sense i once possessed has gone quite out of my head and since that day he wandered still by lake and forest, marsh and hill, singing, Oh, somewhere in valley or plain, might I find my jumbly girl again? Forever I'll seek by lake and shore, till I find my jumbly girl once more. Playing a pipe with silvery squeaks, since then his jumbly girl he seeks.

And because by night he could not see, he gathered the bark of the twangom tree on the flowery plain that grows, and he wove him a wondrous nose, a nose as strange as a nose could be, of vast proportions and painted red, and tied with cords to the back of his head. In a hollow rounded space it ended, with a luminous lamp within suspended, all fenced about with a bandage stout to prevent the wind from blowing it out, and with holes all round descend the light in gleaming rays on the dismal night. And now each night and all night long, over those plains still roams the dong, And above the wail of the chimp and snipe, you may hear the squeak of his plaintive pipe.

While ever he seeks but seeks in vain to meet with his jumbly girl again, Lonely and wild, all night he goes, The dong with a luminous nose. And all who watch at the midnight hour, From hall or terrace or lofty tower, Cry as they trace the meteor bright, moving along through the dreary night. This is the hour when forth he goes, The dong with a luminous nose. Yonder, over the plain he goes, he goes, he goes! the dong with a luminous nose. End of The Dong with a Luminous Nose.

Chapter 7 of Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear. This Lieberbox recording is in the public domain. The new vestments There lived an old man in the kingdom of Tess, who invented a purely original dress, And when it was perfectly made and complete, he opened the door and walked into the street. By way of a hat, teed a loaf of brown bread, in the middle of which he inserted his head. His shirt was made up of no end of dead mice, the warmth of whose skins was quite fluffy and

nice. His drawers were of rabbit skins, so were his shoes. His stockings were skins, but it is not known whose. His waistcoat and trousers were made of pork chops. His buttons were juju-bees with chocolate drops. His coat was all pancakes with jam for a border, and a girdle of biscuits to keep it in order. And he wore over all as a screen from bad weather,

a cloak of green cabbage leaves stitched all together. He had walked a short way when he heard a great noise. of all sorts of beasticles, birdlings, and boys. And from every long street and dark lane in the town, beasts, burdles, and boys in a tumult rushed down. Two cows and a calf ate his cabbage-leaf cloak. Four apes seized his girdle, which vanished like smoke. Three kids ate up half of his pancakey coat,

and the tails were devoured by an ancient he goat. An army of dogs in a twinkling tore up his pork waistcoat and trousers to give to their puppies. And while they were growling and mumbling the chops, ten boys prigged the jujubis and chocolate drops. He tried to run back to his house, but in vain. For scores of fat pigs came again and again. They rushed out of stables and hubbles and doors. They tore off his stockings, his shoes, and his drawings.

and now from the housetops with screechings descend, striped, spotted white-black and gray cats without end. They jumped on his shoulders and knocked off his hat. When crows, ducks, and hens made immense meat of that. They speedily flew at his sleeves in a trice, and utterly tore up his shirt of dead mice. They swallowed the last of his shirt with a squall, whereupon he ran home with no clasp. on at all. And he said to himself as he bolted the door, I shall not wear a similar dress any more, any more, any more, anymore, anymore, never more.

End of the new vestments. Chapter 8 of Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear. This Lieber-Vox recording is in the public domain. Calico Pie Calico Pie, the little birds fly down to the calico tree. Their wings were blue, and they sang, Tilly Lou, till away they flew, and they never came back to me. They never came back, they never came back, they never came back to me. Calico jam the little fish swam over the syllabub sea. He took off his hat to the sole and the sprat and the willoughby wet,

but he never came back to me. He never came back. He never came back. He never came back to me." Calico ban the little mice ran to be ready in time for tea. Flippity-flop they drank it all up and danced in the cup. But they never came back to me. They never came back.

They never came back. They never came back to me. Calico drum the grasshoppers come, the butterfly, beetle and bee. over the ground, around and around with a hop and abound, but they never came back, they never came back, they never came back to me. End of Calico Pie. Chapter 9 of Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear. This labor box recording is in the public domain.

The Courtship of the Yangi Bongi Boe On the coast of Coromandel, where the early pumpkins grow, in the middle of the woods live the Yonggi-Bongy-Bongy-bow. Two old chairs and half a candle, one old jug without a handle. These were all his worldly goods. In the middle of the woods,

they were all the worldly goods of the Yong-y-Bong-Bong-y-Bong-Bong-Bow. Once, among the bong-trees walking where the early pumpkins grow, to a little heap of stones came the Yon-Mongy-Bongy-Bow. There he heard a lady talking, to some milk-white hens of darking. "'Tis the lady, jingley Jones, on that little heap of stones, sits the lady jingley Jones,'

said the yongy-bongy-bon-y-bow, said the yongy-bongy-bon-y-bow. Lady-jingley, lady-jingly, sitting where the pumpkins grow. Will you come and be my wife?' said the yongy-bongy-bongy-bow. I am tired of living singly, on this coast so wild in shingley. I am a weary of my life, if you'll come and be my wife, quite serene would be my life, said the Yangi-Bongy-Bongy-Boh, said the Yangi-Bongy-Boh. On this coast of Coramandel, shrimps and water-cresses grow. Pronds are plentiful and cheap, said the Yong-Bong-y-Bow.

You shall have my chairs and candle, and my jug without a handle, gaze upon the rolling deep. Fish is plentiful and cheap, as the sea. My love is deep, said the Yonge Bongy-Bongy-Boe. Said the Yonge Bongy-Boe. Lady Jingley answered sadly, and her tears began to flow. Your proposal comes too late, Mr. Yonge Bongy-Bongy-Bow. I would be your wife most gladly.

Here she twirled her fingers madly. But in England I've a mate. Yes, you've asked me far too late, for in England I have a mate, Mr. Yonge-Bongy-Bongy-Boe. Mr. Yonge-Bongy-Boe. Mr. Jones, his name is Handel, Handel Jones, a squire and co. Darking fowls the lights to send, Mr. Yongy-Bong-Bong-Bong. Keep, oh, I keep your chairs and candle, and your jug without a handle. I can merely be your friend.

Should my Jones more darking send, I will give you three, my friend. Mr. Yonge-Bong-Bong-Bong-Bow. Mr. Yonge-Bongy-Bongy-Boe. Though you such a tiny body and your head so large doth grow, though your hat may blow away, Mr. Yonge-Bong-Bong-Bong-y-Boh, though you're such a body-dottie, yet I wish that I could modify the words I need must say. Will you please to go away? That is all I have to say, Mr. Yonge-Bong-Bong-y-Bong-Bo.

Mr. Yongi-Bongy-Bongy-bow. Down the slippery slopes of myrtle, where the early pumpkins grow, to the calm and silent sea fled the Yonge-Bong-Bong-Bong-y-Boe. There beyond the bay of Girtle lay a large and lively turtle. You're the cove, he said for me, on your back beyond the sea, Turtle you shall carry me, said the Yonge-Bong-Bong-Gy-Bow. the yongy-bongy-bongy bow. Through the silent, roaring ocean, did the turtle swiftly go, holding fast upon his shell rode the yongy-bongy-bon-y-bow. With a sad primeval motion toward the sunset-isle-is

of botion, still the turtle bore him well, holding fast upon his shell, Lady Jingley-Jones, farewell, sang the yongy-bongy-bongy-bow, sang the yongy-bongy-bongy-bow. From the coast of Coramandel did that lady never go. On that heap of stones she mourns for the Yangy-Bongy-Bongy-Bow. On that coast of Coramandel, in his jug without a handle, still she weeps and daily moans on that little heap of stones, to her darking hens she moans for the Yonge-Bong-Bong-Bong-Bong-Bong. End of the Quir-Tong-E-Bong-Boh.

of the yongy bongy bo chapter ten of nonsense verses by edward lear this laborvox recording is in the public domain incidents in the life of my uncle orly oh my aged uncle orly sitting on a heap of barley through the silent hours of night close beside a leafy thicket on his nose there was a cricket in his hat a railway ticket but his shoes were far too tight. Long ago in youth he squandered all his goods away and wondered, to the Tenniscoop hills afar. There on golden sunsets blazing, every evening found him gazing, singing Arb you're quite amazing, how I wonder what you are. Like the ancient Medes and Persians,

always by his own exertions, he subsisted on those hills. Whiles by teaching children's spelling, or at times by merely yelling, or at intervals by selling, Proctor's Nicodemus pills. Later, in his morning rambles he perceived the moving brambles, something square and white disclose, "'Twas a first-class railway ticket, but on stooping down to picket, off the ground a pea-green cricket settled on my uncle's nose.' Never, never more, oh, never did that cricket leave him ever. Dawn or evening, day or night, clinging as a constant treasure, chirping with a

cheerious measure wholly to my uncle's pleasure, though his shoes were far too tight. So for three and forty winters, till his shoes were worn to splinters, all those hills he wondered o'er, sometimes silent, sometimes yelling, till he came to Barley Melling, near his old ancestral dwelling, but his shoes were far too tight. On a little heap of barley died my aged Uncle Orley, and they buried him one night, close beside the leafy thicket, there his hat and real-way ticket, there his ever-faithful cricket, his shoes were far too tight. End of Incidence in the Life of My Uncle Arley.

End of Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear. These poems read by Phil Chenevere, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, in November of 2012. Chapter 11 of Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear. This Libre box recording is in the public domain. Consence Limericks. There was an old man on a hill who seldom, if ever, stood still. He ran up and down in his grandmother's gown, which adorned that old man on a hill. There was an old man in a pew whose waistcoat was spotted with blue, but he tore it in

pieces to give to his nieces that cheerful old man in a pew. There was an old man with a nose who said, if you choose to suppose, that my nose is too long, you are certainly wrong, that remarkable man with a nose. There was an old man on some rocks who shut up his wife in a box. When she said, let me out, he exclaimed, without doubt, you will pass all your life in that box. There was an old person of reams, who was troubled with horrible dreams. So to keep him awake they fed him with cake, which amused that old person of Reams.

There was an old man of Kilkenny who never had more than a penny. He spent all his money and onions and honey, that wavered old man of Kilkenny. There was an old man who said, How shall I flee from this horrible cow? I will sit on this style and continue to smile, which may soften the heart of that cow. There was a young lady of Troy, whom several large flies did annoy. Some she killed with a thump, some she drowned at the pump, and some she took with her to Troy. There was an old man in a tree, who was horribly bored by a bee.

When they said, does it buzz? He replied, yes, it does. It's a regular brute of a bee. There was a young lady of hull who was chased by a virulent bull. bull, but she seized on a spade and called out who's afraid, which distracted that virulent bull. There was an old person of Dutton whose head was as small as a button, so to make it look big he purchased a wig and rapidly rushed about Dutton. There was a young lady whose chin resembled the point of a pin, so she had it made sharp

and purchased a harp and played several tunes. with her chin there was an old man who said hush I perceive a young bird in this bush when they said is it small he replied not at all it is four times as big as the bush there was a young lady of russia who screamed so that no one could hush her her screams were extreme no one heard such a scream as was screamed by that lady of russia there was a young lady of russia there was a young lady of russia there was a young lady of Portugal, whose ideas were exceedingly nautical. She climbed up a tree to examine the sea, but declared she would never leave Portugal. There was a young lady of Tyre who swept the loud cords of a lyre. At the sound of each sweep she enraptured the deep and enchanted the city of Tyre. There was an old person of Iskia whose conduct grew friskier and friskier. He had been a little bit more,

danced hornpipes and jigs and thousands of figs, that lively old person of Ischia. There was an old person of Bangor, whose face was distorted with anger. He tore off his boots and subsided on roots, that borosable person of Bangor. There was an old man of Vienna who lived upon Tincture of Senna. When that did not agree he took camomile tea, that nasty old man of Viener. Vienna. There was an old man of the East who gave all his children a feast, but they all ate so much, and their conduct was such that it killed that old man of the East. There was an old man in a boat who said, I'm afloat, I'm afloat. When they said, no you ain't, he was ready to faint,

that unhappy old man in a boat. There was an old man of the coast who placidly sat on a post, but when it was cold he relinquished his hold, and called for some hot buttered toast. There was an old man of Kamshetker, who possessed a remarkably fat kirk. His gait and his waddle were held as a model, to all the fat dogs in Kamshakar. There was an old man of Moldavia, who had the most curious behavior. For while he was able he slept on a table. funny old man of Moldavia.

End of Nonsense Limericks by Lear. Chapter 12 of Nonsense Verses by Edward Lear. This Libra Vox recording is in the public domain. Yet more Nonsense Limerick's by Lear. There was a young person of Bantry who frequently slept in the pantry. When disturbed by the mice, she appeased them with rock. That judicious young person of Bantry. There was an old man at a junction whose feelings were wrung with compunction.

When they said the train's gone, he exclaimed, how forlorn, but remained on the rails of the junction. There was an old man of Ibrim who suddenly threatened to scream, but they said if you do, we will thump you quite blue. You disgusting old man of Ibrim! There was an old person of Mighty who purchased five hundred and ninety, large apples and pears, which he threw unawares, at the heads of the people of Mighty. There was an old person of Wilts who constantly walked upon stilts.

He wreathed them with lilies and daffy-down dillies, that elegant person of wiltz. There was an old man. of Thermopyly, who never did anything properly, but they said if you choose to boil eggs in your shoes, you shall never remain in Thermopyly. There was an old person of Grange whose manners were scrupious and strange. He sailed to St. Blub in a waterproof tub, that aquatic old person of Grange. There was an old person of Deal who in walking used only his heel. when they said, tell us why, he made no reply, that mysterious old person of Deal. There was an old person of Nuri whose manners were tinctured with fury.

He tore all the rugs and broke all the jugs within twenty miles distance of Nuree. There was an old man on the Humber, who dined on a cake of a burnt umber. When he said, It's enough, they only said, stuff, you amazing. old man on the humber? There was an old man of Dumblaine, who greatly resembled a crane, but they said, is it wrong since your legs are so long to request you won't stay in Dumbane? There was an old man in a barge, whose nose was exceedingly large, but in fishing by night it supported a light which helped that old man in a barge.

There was an old man of Port Grigger whose actions were noted for vigor. He stood on his head till his waistcoat turned red, that eclectic old man of Port Grigger. There was an old man of Dunrose, a parrot seized hold of his nose. When he grew melancholy, they said his name's Polly, which soothed that old man of Dunrose. There was an old man of El Hums who lived upon nothing but crumbs, which he picked off the ground with the other birds round, in the roads and the lanes of El Hums. There was an old man of Toulouse, who purchased a new pair of shoes. When they asked, are they pleasant, he said, not at present, that turbid old man of Toulouse.

There was an old man of West Dumpet, who possessed the large, nose like a trumpet. When he blew it aloud, it astonished the crowd, and was heard through the hold of West Dumpet. There was an old person of Brie who frequented the depths of the sea. She nursed the small fishes and washed all the dishes, and swam back again into Brie. There was an old person of Sark, who made an unpleasant remark, but they said, Don't you see what a brute you must be, you obnoxious old person a sark? There was an old person of Bromley whose ways were not cheerful or comely. He sat in the dust-eating spiders and crust, that unpleasant old person of Bromley.

There was an old man whose despair induced him to purchase a hair, whereupon one fine day he rode wholly away, which partly assuaged his despair there was an old person of shields who frequented the valleys and fields all the mice and the cats and the snakes and the rats followed after that person of shields there was an old person of barns whose garments were covered with darns but they said without doubt you will soon wear them out you luminous person of barns end of yet more nonsense limericks by lear end of nonsense verses by edward lear