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Most of the boys in the class started to save for one.

Now here’s where it gets strange. There is nothing in the poem to suggest Mr. Dumpty was an egg.

It was fairly common knowledge around Greece that Narcissus was not what one would call the sharpest knife in the drawer.

How they got in there I have no idea. At that moment I was in the kitchen trying to dry the couch cushions.

He should be lying home in bed,
Instead where is he, likely dead.

I usually pretend to wave at someone across the street and quietly slip away.