HOW many bones in the human face?
Fourteen, when they're all in place.
How many bones in the human head?
Eight, my child, as I've often said.
How many bones in the human ear?
Four in each, and they help to hear.
How many bones in the human spine?
Twenty-four, like a climbing vine.
How many bones in the human chest?
Twenty-four ribs, and two of the rest.
How many bones the shoulders bind?
Two in each—one before, one behind.
How many bones in the human arm?
In each arm one; two in each forearm.
How many bones in the human wrist?
Eight in each, if none are missed.
How many bones in the palm of the hand?
Five in each, with many a band.
How many bones in the fingers ten?
Twenty-eight, and by joints they bend.
How many bones in the human hip?
One in each; like a dish they dip.
How many bones in the human thigh?
One in each, and deep they lie.
How many bones in the human knees?
One in each, the kneepan, please.
How many bones in the leg from the knee?
Two in each, we can plainly see.
How many bones in the ankle strong?
Seven in each, but none are long.
How many bones in the ball of the foot?
Five in each, as the palms are put.
How many bones in the toes, half a score?
Twenty-eight, and there are no more.
And now altogether these many bones wait,
And they count, in a body, two hundred and eight.
And then we have in the human mouth,
Of upper and under, thirty-two teeth.
And now and then have a bone, I should think,
That forms on a joint or to fill up a chink—
A Sesamoid bone or a Wormian, we call.
And now we may rest, for we've told them all.
—Christian at Work.