I know just the manFor a Knid with a nasty disease.He's a butcher by trade which is not a bad plan,And he charges quite reasonable fees.Ah, here he is now! "Doc, you really are kindTo travel so far into space.There's your patient, the Knid with the purple behind!Do you think it's a desperate case?""Great heavens above! It's no wonder he's pale!"Said the doc with a horrible grin."There's a sort of balloon on the end of his tail!I must prick it at once with a pin!"So he got out a thing like an Indian spear,With feathers all over the top,And he lunged and he caught the Knid smack in the rear,But alas, the balloon didn't pop!Cried the Knid, "What on earth am I going to doWith this painful preposterous lump?I can't remain standing the whole summer through!And I cannot sit down on my rump!""It's a bad case of rear-ache," the medico said,"And it's something I cannot repair.If you want to sit down, you must sit on your head,With your bottom high up in the air!"'

9

Gobbled Up

On the day when all this was happening, no factories opened anywhere in the world. All offices and schools were closed. Nobody moved away from the television screens, not even for a couple of minutes to get a Coke or to feed the baby. The tension was unbearable. Everybody heard the American President's invitation to the men from Mars to visit him in the White House. And they heard the weird rhyming reply, which sounded rather threatening. They also heard a piercing scream (Grandma Josephine), and a little later on, they heard someone shouting, 'Scram! Scram! Scram!' (Mr Wonka). Nobody could make head or tail of the shouting. They took it to be some kind of Martian language. But when the eight mysterious astronauts suddenly rushed back into their glass capsule and broke away from the Space Hotel, you could almost hear the great sigh of relief that rose up from the peoples of the earth. Telegrams and messages poured into the White House congratulating the President upon his brilliant handling of a frightening situation.



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