THE CHILDREN'S HOUR

GULIELMUS LUNARIUS CAEPIUM BIBACULUS

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The Trolley

Our trolley doesn't run no more for
it died last night right outside my door.

“Completely kaputski!” said the sad engineer
as he sorrowfully shed one farewell tear.

We will never again hear the clang of
its bell when it climbs up the hill or the
squeal of its brakes as it scampers down.

Our trolley will forever be still
so the engineer had to walk
all the way back to town.

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The Children’s Lament
FOR THE TWINSTER SISTERS ON
THE IDES OF MARCH MMXII

The western sky is a blustery gray
so our riding lesson was cancelled today.

Intelligent equines refuse to trot if
the weather is either too cold or too hot.

The only riders out now are fools upon mules.
We will spend the whole day inside and in school.


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