This isn’t a story to put in rhyme—
Now is it?—And yet if the Lord saw fit
To make a giant and jest a bit
Right out here in our country-side
With every one seeing him far and wide—
Well it seems to me that a rhyme goes fine
For this pitiful, circus-like tale of mine—
Of giant Bob and his coming home
Never again with his shows to roam.
“He’s fadin’ out like a wisp o’ hay”