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Updated: July 10, 2025
A little ball of green inch-worm dropped off the bush on to Toadie Todson's back and began to measure its length over Toadie's big warts and veins. It made him feel very important to have an inch-worm all to himself to tickle his back, as important as an Egyptian Queen with a slave to tickle the sole of her foot all the hot afternoon long.
It pleased her so much that she tried to sing it again to Father Cricky for the Marsh Grass Vesper Quartette. Of course it was all about Toadie Todson, and this was it: A Lament Very slowly Mournful, mournful notes, In our little throats we sing Flowers, flowers dead, For our Toadie's head we bring
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