by Roald Dahl I am a maiden who is forty, And a maiden I shall stay. There are some who call me haughty, But I care not what they say. I was running the tombola At our church bazaar today, And doing it with gusto In my usual jolly way When suddenly, I knew not why, There came a funny feeling Of something crawling up my thigh! I nearly hit the ceiling! A mouse! I thought. How foul! How mean! How exquisitely tickly! Quite soon I know I'm going to scream. I've got to catch it quickly. I made a grab. I caught the mouse, Now right inside my knickers. A mouse my foot! It was a HAND! Great Scott! It was the vicar's!
The end