The Elf and The Dormouse

The Elf and The Dormouse

by Oliver Herford

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.