"There's something very important I'd like to show you, Mogey," Smush said one rainy Saturday. "I've never performed before, but I know all fourteen of the immortal Lord McElroy's sonnets by heart. Would you like to hear me recite them?"
"Well I'll be doggoned!" Mogey exclaimed. "The immortal Lord McElroy? All fourteen of 'em? I can't think of a thing nicer than Lord McElroy as told by Smush. I'll plop down right here and you go ahead whenever you're ready."
As Mogey settled into an easy chair, Smush took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began to recite. He read the poems with all the passion in his soul and all the indigestion in his tummy, letting loose feelings and burps that had been cooped up inside him for ages.
When at last he reached the penultimate line of the 16th sonnet, Smush opened his eyes to see Mogey preoccupied with a stick of hard candy, a pair of earmuffs over his head.
"Mogey!" Smush said angrily, to no avail. "Mogey!"
"What?" Mogey asked, removing the earmuffs.
"I don't believe it," Smush muttered. "You've missed my entire recitation."
"For goodness sakes, Smush," Mogey replied. "You were reciting poetry. What did you expect me to do? Not put on earmuffs and enjoy a distracting hard candy?"
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