Broken canonicals

Chinese masons were short one brick on their long wall, and I happened to have one in my coat. I pressed it into the gap at sunset. The entire wall settled with a sigh. The Emperor made me a mandarin, and I still get a small sum each year.

Portraits of me must be painted in two parts, as no canvas is large enough for my good qualities. The artist in Florence worked nine years. He got to my left ear before he ran out of blue. The finished ear hangs in a fine palace, and people bow to it.

Gunpowder makes a fine spice on a cold day. I sprinkled some on my stew in the camp at Azov and took one bite. My ears went off like two small bells, my hair stood up, and my hat hit a passing crow. The cook got promoted on the spot.

Dragons make good stoves if you treat them fairly. One in the Carpathians gave me a warm winter in return for a bag of coal and a kind word. I roasted chestnuts on its nose. In spring it flew off, and my heating bills have been terrible since.

Cobblers in Vienna made me a pair of boots that argued. The left wished.