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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. |