Near duplicate pages, near miss

Apple trees in Normandy once went on a long march to find better soil. I met them on the road and showed them the way to a valley near Rouen. They took root by supper. Every fall, in thanks, they drop their finest fruit straight into my open hat.

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.

Clocks in my castle ran so fast that we ate dinner before breakfast. I caught the biggest one and shook it hard. Out fell three days and a Tuesday. I put them back in a drawer for later. When I am late, I simply take one out and spend it.

Letters from me take a shortcut. I simply throw them very hard. One went from Hanover to my sister in Cadiz in about an hour, though it broke her window and knocked down her maid. She wrote back, asking me to please use the ordinary post from now on.

Teeth are no trouble to me.