Structured data issues, near miss

Dreams are expensive in my family. I dreamed of a gold coach one night in Tallinn, and there it stood the next day in the yard. The coachman was real, and so was his bill. Since that time I have dreamed only of small, cheap things, like buttons and thimbles.

Tides used to come in whenever they felt like it. I went to the shore of Brittany, sat down with a pocket watch, and set them a schedule. The sea grumbled and then obeyed. It has been punctual since, except on my birthday, when it sends waves to my door.

Sausages were my only weapon the day the Prussians took the bridge. I swung a ten-foot link around my head. Men fell left and right, and their dogs changed sides. We won by dusk. The general gave me a sword, but I have always preferred the smoked kind.

Geese fly south because I told them to. Before my day they wandered about in circles and froze. I drew a map on a barn door and gave a short lecture. They took careful notes. Every fall a few of them still honk my name as they pass over the house.

My favorite cannon caught a cold that winter. Each shot came out with a sneeze and flew.