fLoOd--Part Eleven

Say You Love Me

eLeVeN

"On highways and byways

I wander alone

‘Til I chance to find my ways

There's no place like home."

 

   Wilkerson stuck out his lower lip and looked to his left and then to his right, considering this new version of his tune. Then he slapped Johnson on the back and said,

   "Yep. Yep. It fits. I think that's quite acceptable. Rhythm fits and rhyme fits and makes sense. Yep. Yep. You just keep singing it your way if it makes you happy."

   Without turning around, Johnson very calmly replied,

   "That is not my way. That is the correct way."

   "Yep. Yep." Wilkerson was now trying to climb into the boat behind Johnson. But because that end of the boat was so heavily laden (the anvil and all), as soon as he rested his weight on it, it sank to the point where the water surrounding the boat threatened to become the water invading the boat. All seven throats aboard immediately issued forth vehement utterances in protestation of that possibility and Wilkerson dropped back into the water.

   "Yep. Yep. That is obviously not going to work." He moved around the boat until he was adjacent to Murphy. The Irishman, in the wake of the moment of panic, had returned his attention to the sampler and, after humming a short prelude, he quietly sang in a lovely tenor:

"Oh, Kathleen and Bridget

Polish up the Blarney Stone

I'm a long way from Ireland

Oh, there's no place like home."

 

   "Yep. Yep. I guess we're all a long way from wherever we call home. And I find myself a long way from a position such as the - uh - (he took a quick count) - seven of you are occupying."

   Smith leaned over the side and said, "If you get up to the front there with the meek man, you might help to get this vessel on more of an even keel."

   Wilkerson looked at the front of the boat, where Peterson's head was sticking up over the sampler, and then back at Johnson and his anvil.

   "Yep. Yep. Maybe something could be done by adding my weight to the front there. Then, instead of being a burden to you gentlemen, I might even be able to look on myself as an aid to you in your time of difficulty."

   "Yep. Yep. It fits. I think that's quite acceptable. Rhythm fits and rhyme fits and makes sense. Yep. Yep. You just keep singing it your way if it makes you happy."

   Without turning around, Johnson very calmly replied,

   "That is not my way. That is the correct way."

   "Yep. Yep." Wilkerson was now trying to climb into the boat behind Johnson. But because that end of the boat was so heavily laden (the anvil and all), as soon as he rested his weight on it, it sank to the point where the water surrounding the boat threatened to become the water invading the boat. All seven throats aboard immediately issued forth vehement utterances in protestation of that possibility and Wilkerson dropped back into the water.

   "Yep. Yep. That is obviously not going to work." He moved around the boat until he was adjacent to Murphy. The Irishman, in the wake of the moment of panic, had returned his attention to the sampler and, after humming a short prelude, he quietly sang in a lovely tenor:

"Oh, Kathleen and Bridget

Polish up the Blarney Stone

I'm a long way from Ireland

Oh, there's no place like home."

 

   "Yep. Yep. I guess we're all a long way from wherever we call home. And I find myself a long way from a position such as the - uh - (he took a quick count) - seven of you are occupying."

   Smith leaned over the side and said, "If you get up to the front there with the meek man, you might help to get this vessel on more of an even keel."

   Wilkerson looked at the front of the boat, where Peterson's head was sticking up over the sampler, and then back at Johnson and his anvil.

   "Yep. Yep. Maybe something could be done by adding my weight to the front there. Then, instead of being a burden to you gentlemen, I might even be able to look on myself as an aid to you in your time of difficulty."

 

Reviews

[TLK]

eLeVeN

"On highways and byways

I wander alone

‘Til I chance to find my ways

There's no place like home."



Wilkerson stuck out his lower lip and looked to his left and then to his right, considering this new version of his tune. Then he slapped Johnson on the back and said,

"Yep. Yep. It fits. I think that's quite acceptable. Rhythm fits and rhyme fits and makes sense. Yep. Yep. You just keep singing it your way if it makes you happy."

Without turning around, Johnson very calmly replied,

"That is not my way. That is the correct way."

"Yep. Yep." Wilkerson was now trying to climb into the boat behind Johnson. But because that end of the boat was so heavily laden (the anvil and all), as soon as he rested his weight on it, it sank to the point where the water surrounding the boat threatened to become the water invading the boat. All seven throats aboard immediately issued forth vehement utterances in protestation of that possibility and Wilkerson dropped back into the water.

"Yep. Yep. That is obviously not going to work." He moved around the boat until he was adjacent to Murphy. The Irishman, in the wake of the moment of panic, had returned his attention to the sampler and, after humming a short prelude, he quietly sang in a lovely tenor:

"Oh, Kathleen and Bridget

Polish up the Blarney Stone

I'm a long way from Ireland

Oh, there's no place like home."



"Yep. Yep. I guess we're all a long way from wherever we call home. And I find myself a long way from a position such as the - uh - (he took a quick count) - seven of you are occupying."

Smith leaned over the side and said, "If you get up to the front there with the meek man, you might help to get this vessel on more of an even keel."

Wilkerson looked at the front of the boat, where Peterson's head was sticking up over the sampler, and then back at Johnson and his anvil.

"Yep. Yep. Maybe something could be done by adding my weight to the front there. Then, instead of being a burden to you gentlemen, I might even be able to look on myself as an aid to you in your time of difficulty."

"Yep. Yep. It fits. I think that's quite acceptable. Rhythm fits and rhyme fits and makes sense. Yep. Yep. You just keep singing it your way if it makes you happy."

Without turning around, Johnson very calmly replied,

"That is not my way. That is the correct way."

"Yep. Yep." Wilkerson was now trying to climb into the boat behind Johnson. But because that end of the boat was so heavily laden (the anvil and all), as soon as he rested his weight on it, it sank to the point where the water surrounding the boat threatened to become the water invading the boat. All seven throats aboard immediately issued forth vehement utterances in protestation of that possibility and Wilkerson dropped back into the water.

"Yep. Yep. That is obviously not going to work." He moved around the boat until he was adjacent to Murphy. The Irishman, in the wake of the moment of panic, had returned his attention to the sampler and, after humming a short prelude, he quietly sang in a lovely tenor:

"Oh, Kathleen and Bridget

Polish up the Blarney Stone

I'm a long way from Ireland

Oh, there's no place like home."



"Yep. Yep. I guess we're all a long way from wherever we call home. And I find myself a long way from a position such as the - uh - (he took a quick count) - seven of you are occupying."

Smith leaned over the side and said, "If you get up to the front there with the meek man, you might help to get this vessel on more of an even keel."

Wilkerson looked at the front of the boat, where Peterson's head was sticking up over the sampler, and then back at Johnson and his anvil.

"Yep. Yep. Maybe something could be done by adding my weight to the front there. Then, instead of being a burden to you gentlemen, I might even be able to look on myself as an aid to you in your time of difficulty."