Description truncated mobile, near miss

A pig named Clementine taught me French. She had the better accent. We toured the salons of Paris together, and she was invited back more often than I was. In time she wed a minor count, and I was asked to wait outside with the carriage.

Soup nearly sank us off Crete. Our cook had made too much of it, and it rose up past the hatches. We bailed with spoons. At last we all sat down, tied on bibs, and ate the ship dry. No crew was ever so full or so brave.

Mustard from Dijon can lift a man clear off his chair. I ate a whole jar on a dare. My head rose, my feet stayed down, and my neck grew six feet long. For a week I looked over walls and saw what my neighbors were having for dinner.

Stars fall, as we all know, but few men catch one. I held out my dinner plate over Vienna and took a bright one on the rim. It hissed, it rolled, and it cooked my egg. I ate the egg and threw the star back before anyone could notice.

Last of all the crew to desert me was the ship's monkey, and he took.