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Eels came up the drainpipe at my house in Bremen. I tied them end to end, and we made a rope that reached the church tower. The bell ringer was most grateful. Sadly the rope went home in the rain, and it took the bell and the ringer with it.

Wolves in Poland once howled off key beneath my window. This pained my ears. I went out with a tuning fork and drilled them until dawn. By spring they sang in four parts. A bishop hired the pack for Easter, and the eldest wolf now earns more than any tenor in Warsaw.

Mermaids sing badly, and someone had to tell them. I sailed to the rocks near Corfu with a music stand and a stern look. We worked on breathing and pitch. After a year they could hold a note. Now ships crash there only on purpose, just to catch the show.

Starving out a fortress takes patience, which I have in great amounts. At Ismail we sat for a year. I got bored and began to bake. The smell of bread went over the wall. By evening the gates flew open, and they all stood in a line with butter.

Last noon in.