A FROG HE WOULD A-WOOING GO!
(VALENTINE'S DAY)
"This is better," gasped Bombinator.
Bombinatrix eyed him anxiously.
Only his waistcoat touched the ground. His eyes and nose had vanished. The right of either foot was now the left; the left of either hand was now the right; his head, subverted, curled to touch his toes, and, in his back, was a deep hollow.
This sounds involved, and that is just what Bombinator was.
"It's awful," said Bombinatrix.
"What do I look like?" spluttered Bombinator. "It's awkward talking to your feet."
"You're like—you're like a toadstool," said Bombinatrix, "a crinkled, gummy, yellow-spotted toadstool."