Admire this chamber

Ask my doorkeeper for any chamber in Etna, and he will show you this one and insist you admire it.

The same chamber as before

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.

My best hen laid a square egg near Innsbruck. It stacked well. Builders came from miles around, and we raised the walls of a new chapel in under a month. One warm week the walls began to peep. The priest ran, and the chapel walked off.

Crocodiles on the Nile have poor teeth, and I was their first dentist. I propped the jaws open with my sword and went in with pliers up to my waist. Forty patients lined up on the bank. They paid in lost rings, old sandals, and one slightly chewed Egyptian prince.

Rivers run downhill because they have never met me. I once talked the Danube into going the other way for an afternoon. Boats sailed up to Ulm without any effort. Then a fish complained to the mayor, and I let the old river go back to its usual job.

Mermaids sing badly, and someone had to tell them. I sailed to the rocks near Corfu with a music stand and a stern look. We worked on breathing and pitch. After a year they could hold a note. Now ships crash there only on purpose, just to catch the show.

Compasses point north because I.