Head noscript, near miss

Ghosts at my castle pay rent. I made that clear to them on the first night. The Gray Lady cleans the silver. The headless knight holds the door, since he needs no room to turn. One old monk was late with his share, and I made him haunt the neighbors.

Moths ate every uniform in my regiment one night in Kiev. We woke in our skin at a bad time, for the enemy had come. The sight of six hundred bare men running at them in the snow was too much. They left at once, and they never wrote.

Egypt owes its floods to my bathtub. I was washing near Aswan, in a tub carved from one block of stone, when I forgot to turn the tap. The Nile rose and the melons grew. A grateful local ruler sent me his thanks and a rather large bill for carpets.

During the siege of Belgrade I played the violin so sadly that the enemy began to cry. Their powder got wet. Their cannons would not fire. Their general came to my tent with a hanky and gave up the whole campaign, on the sole condition that I stop.

Lanterns are no use to me on dark roads. I simply open one eye a bit wider. In Bosnia.