[Douglas G. Brown]

These chestnuts which I am purveying
Were hoary well before my time;
But I make sure each one’s obeying
The rules of meter and of rhyme:

Why did the chicken cross the road?
(Which is, it’s never been denied,
The oldest chestnut ever told.)
She crossed to reach the other side.

What lady was I with last night?
(You ask, to raise domestic strife;
I answer that I’m living right.)
That was no lady; she’s my wife.

How does a French girl hold her liquor?
(I’ve known this one for forty years;
And still, the answer makes me snicker.)
She holds her licker by his ears.