HUMPTY-BUMPTY
HUMPTY-BUMPTY, bump! went the wagon, as the Good Gray Horse trotted along. "Very poor springs on this wagon," cried Puss, his teeth knocking together as they crossed a rough bit of road.
"You are not used to farm wagons, my good Sir Cat," the little old man replied.
"You are right," said Puss.
"Did you ever hear the conundrum in rhyme about
"'Thirty white horses upon a red hill,
Now they tramp, now they champ,
Now they all stand still'?"
asked the little old man.
"No," replied Puss. "But who ever saw a red hill?"