Thurber Strikes Again

I must stop idling through the internet as the rain pours down from battleship-grey skies, and complete shelving the books instead (Yes, I know it's ages but there are trillions, in modern measure, of them). In the meantime, do share this:

What's your head all bandaged up for?
I got hit with some tomatoes.
How could that bruise you up so bad?
These tomatoes were in a can.

I wonder what Miss Groby would have thought of that one.
I dream of my old English teacher occasionally. It seems that we are always in Sherwood Forest and that from far away I can hear Robin Hood winding his silver horn.
"Drat that man for making such a racket on his cornet!" cries Miss Groby. "He scared away a perfectly darling Container for the Thing Contained, a great, big, beautiful one. It leaped right back into its context when that man blew that cornet. It was the most wonderful Container for the Thing Contained I ever saw here in the Forest of Arden."
"This is Sherwood Forest," I say to her.
"That doesn't make any difference at all that I can see," she says to me.