Light Limericks

An editor whose name was McCue

Caught a disease that was known as “the Hue”;

     He had penciled so much

     With his butchering touch

That to him everything had turned blue.

There was an old sheriff named Drown,

Who never a crime could run down;

     He couldn’t catch hail,

     Nor run down a snail.

So he ran down the folks of his town.

A cur that belonged to old Potts

Was so thin you could see through him in spots;

     “I am happy,” said he,

     “Because, don’t you see,

I’m so thin they won’t want me for “hots”!

March 29, 1912