toadstool

Under a toadstool crept a wee Elf
out of the rain to shelter himself.
Under the toadstool, sound asleep
sat a big Dormouse all in a heap.

Trembled the wee Elf, frightened and yet
fearing to fly away lest he get wet
to the next shelter -maybe a mile!
sudden the wee Elf smiled a wee smile

Tugged till the toadstool toppled in two
holding it over him, gaily he flew
Soon he was safe home, dry as could be
soon woke the Dormouse -"Good gracious me!
where is my toadstool?" loud he lamented
-and that's how umbrellas first were invented.

-O. Herford-