NONSENSE WITH PANTS.

Yesterday I went to the library and found a big fat green collection of Edward Lear.
This was the result.

NONSENSE WITH PANTS

There once was a man who never went out.
“If you keep sitting there,” said his friend, “they’ll wear out,
Those pants are not made for just sitting around in.
Fine fabric needs air, Sir, not a constant bum groundin’.”

Yet the man did not move until late afternoon,
Then the words of his friend filled him dreading with gloom.

“How do I know what state these old drawers just might be in,
With my ass underneath, there is no way of seein’.
What I need’s a hand mirror, then I can rightly see 'em,
Then I’ll know if they need patchin', sewin', or mendin.’”

So he looked all about for his private hand mirror,
Yet as he could not find it, he got worked up in a fear, or….

He thought to ask his friend.
“Have you seen my hand mirror?”
“Yes, I put it on the lawn, at the end of the steps.”
"?”

Without pondering more he walked out to the door,
Then he walked down the steps, grabbed the mirror and saw…

“They look fine,” he said.
His friend stood in the door.
“You’ll admit you’re outside now, you’re wearing your pants.
There to fore, as I said, and I state, ‘they’re worn out.’”