Elf and Dormouse

Under a toadstool

Crept a wee Elf,

Out of the rain

To shelter himself.

Under the toadstool,

Sound asleep,

Sat a big Dormouse

All in a heap.

Trembled the wee Elf

Frightened, and yet

Fearing to fly away

Lest he get wet.

To the next shelter

Maybe a mile

Sudden the wee Elf

Smiled a wee smile.

Tugged till the toadstool

Toppled in two

Holding it over him

Gayly he flew.

Soon he was safe home,

Dry as could be.

Soon woke the Dormouse

"Good gracious me!

Where is my toadstool!"

Loud he lamented,

And that's how umbrellas

First were invented.

— Oliver Herford