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me Miss. I am the great Duke Worthington who dwells in that castle high atop those
foothills. My property runs from mountain top to this runlet and as far left and right as
you can see. Let us shed these earthly sheets which hide our bodies from sight and have a
heavenly tumble in yonder shrubbery.
You're not the Duke and that shrubbery is prickly. The only sheets being shed are those from the real Duke's beds, with which I have been tasked to wash. Good day, Sir.
Then good day, Miss. Oh, oh my. My hand seems to be stuck to this tree stump.
I beg your pardon.
My hand. I can't remove it from this tree stump. I remember reading once that the way to remove a stuck hand from a tree stump is to have a fair maiden walk into a stream of water and when she emerges with her garments now stuck fast to her body, she must slowly remove those clinging garments so that the stuck hand would be removed from the tree...
Sir, I'm not sure if the sap from that tree is stuck on you or whether the sap in you is stuck on that tree. Either way --
My ankle, my ankle. My right ankle is twisted, from which the pain is so great I can only see red. Please, Miss, come massage this throbbing ankle.
You only see red because your fez has slid over your pinhead and covered your eyes.
OK, pull my finger?
Tom Nelson - Bloomington, IN