  [One of Doctor M. V. O'Shea's Stories Jingled.] The framework of the body is The bones, so teachers say; And if we didn't have 'em Our shape it wouldn't stay. Besides sans bones my liver And brains and even heart Would get some awful hurtin's And maybe come apart. If my poor bones were badly burned All brittle I would be, Since flames will kill the animal That was born in me; If I were soaked in acid No tender sapling tree Would be one-half so limber But, thinking it all over, If I should choose my fate I'd rather soak in acid Than burn in a hot grate. Some of my bones, the wise men say, Are very far apart, While others cling together Like jelly in a tart. That is because the bones have joints, And joints are good to have, They help me be a pitcher And save me lots of salve. When all my bones are gathered And put in their right place They make a so-called skeleton, A grinnin' in his face. But if you leave out one small bone Or put one in not right, It won't be any skeleton, The Exo critters' skeletons Are placed on the outside, I'm glad I'm not an EXO, For if my Jane espied Me lookin' like the skeleton That's shown on teacher's chart, I know she'd turn her nose right up And say that we must part. |
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