The Elf And The Dormouse Fairy Tale

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THE ELF AND THE DORMOUSE
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, gayly 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.

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