book by the fire;
But to take a large hoe and a shovel also,
And dig till you gently perspire;

And then you will find that the sun and the wind.
And the Djinn of the Garden too,
Have lifted the hump--
The horrible hump--
The hump that is black and blue!

I get it as well as you-oo-oo--
If I haven't enough to do-oo-oo--
We all get hump--
Cameelious hump--
Kiddies and grown-ups too!

HOW THE RHINOCEROS GOT HIS SKIN

ONCE upon a time, on an uninhabited island on the shores of the Red Sea,
there lived a Parsee from whose hat the rays of the sun were reflected
in more-than-oriental splendour. And the Parsee lived by the Red Sea
with nothing but his hat and his knife and a cooking-stove of the kind
that you must particularly never touch. And one day he took flour and
water and currants and plums and sugar and things, and made himself one
cake which was two feet across and three feet thick. It was indeed a
Superior Comestible (that's magic), and he put it on stove because he
was allowed to cook on the stove, and he baked it and he baked it till
it was all done brown and smelt most sentimental. But just as he
was going to eat it there came down to the beach from the Altogether
Uninhabited Interior one Rhinoceros with a horn on his nose, two piggy
eyes, and few manners. In those days the Rhinoceros's skin fitted him
quite tight. There were no wrinkles in it anywhere. He looked exactly
like a Noah's Ark Rhinoceros, but of course much bigger. All the same,
he had no manners then, and he has no manners now, and he never will
have any manners. He said, 'How!' and the Parsee left that cake and
climbed to the top of a palm tree with nothing on but his hat, from
which the rays of the sun were always reflected in more-than-oriental
splendour. And the Rhinoceros upset the oil-stove with his nose, and
the cake rolled on the sand, and he spiked that cake on the horn of his
nose, and he ate it, and he went away, waving his tail, to the desolate
and Exclusively Uninhabited Interior which abuts on the islands of
Mazanderan, Socotra, and Promontories of the Larger Equinox. Then the
Parsee came down from his palm-tree and put the stove on its legs and
recited the following Sloka, which, as you have not heard, I will now
proceed to relate:--

Them that takes cakes
Which the Parsee-man bakes
Makes dreadful mistakes.

And there was a great deal