“Talked my head offWorked my tail offCried my eyes outWalked my feet offSang my heat outSo you see, There's really not much left of me.”

“I cannot go to school today"Said little Peggy Ann McKay."I have the measles and the mumps,A gash, a rash and purple bumps.My mouth is wet, my throat is dry.I'm going blind in my right eye.My tonsils are as big as rocks,I've counted sixteen chicken pox.And there's one more - that's seventeen,And don't you think my face looks green?My leg is cut, my eyes are blue,It might be the instamatic flu.I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,I'm sure that my left leg is broke.My hip hurts when I move my chin,My belly button's caving in.My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,My 'pendix pains each time it rains.My toes are cold, my toes are numb,I have a sliver in my thumb.My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,I hardly whisper when I speak.My tongue is filling up my mouth,I think my hair is falling out.My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,My temperature is one-o-eight.My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,There's a hole inside my ear.I have a hangnail, and my heart is ...What? What's that? What's that you say?You say today is .............. Saturday?G'bye, I'm going out to play!”

“I opened my eyesAnd looked up at the rain,And it dripped in my headAnd flowed into my brain,And all that I hear as I lie in my bedIs the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.I step very softly,I walk very slow,I can't do a handstand--I might overflow,So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.”

“If you want to marry me, here's what you'll have to do:You must learn how to make a perfect chicken-dumpling stew.And you must sew my holey socks,And soothe my troubled mind,And develop the knack for scratching my back,And keep my shoes spotlessly shined.And while I rest you must rake up the leaves,And when it is hailing and snowingYou must shovel the walk...and be still when I talk,And-hey-where are you going?”

“I've found my missin' piece So grease my knees and fleece my bees I've found my missin' piece!”

“My beard grows down to my toes,I never wears no clothes,I wraps my hairAround my bare,And down the road I goes.”

“And after a long time the boy came back again. "I am sorry, Boy," said the tree, "but I have nothing left to give you- My apples are gone." "My teeth are too weak for apples," said the boy. "My branches are gone," said the tree. "You cannot swing on them-" "I am too old to swing on branches," said the boy. "My trunk is gone," said the tree. "You cannot climb-" "I am too tired to climb," said the boy. "I am sorry," sighed the tree. "I wish that I could give you something... but I have nothing left. I am an old stump. I am sorry...""I don't need very much now," said the boy, "just a quiet pleace to sit and rest. I am very tired." "Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, "well, an old stump is a good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest."And the boy did.And the tree was happy.”