I haven't read anything other than the Providence Journal for 24 hours now. I have, however, listened to most of a Boston Red Sox game and part of a New York Yankees game and will spend this afternoon freezing at a Pawtucket Red Sox game. One of my sons is sick and will spend the afternoon reclining on the couch watching Laurel and Hardy with his grandmother. The other is the instigator of this all-baseball diet I'm presently subsisting on. Good thing it's temporary, or I might find myself reduced to copying out "Casey at the Bat" for you.

Snatching the first book at hand in this guest room that used to be my sister's childhood bedroom, I randomly give you a small sample from Edward Lear's "The Akond of Swat:"

Does he like new cream, and hate mince pies?

When he looks at the sun does he wink his eyes?