-Well, he was an eloquent advocate of inter-species relations.
-He was? Now there's something!
-Really! ?
-Carumba!
-Yes. A muskrat and a rabbit? Revolutionary, really, and illegal at the time, but he didn't care. Neither did she. They were an item.
- I sort of like this Uncle Wiggly. 'Sounds like he had 'It'. Did he have kids?
-Not that I know of.
-Hey, I have some of his books in the attic. 'Wonder if they're worth something?
-They were a...what?
-An item, Juana. It means they cut a rug.
-Oh. So, what happened to Tio Wiggly. Don't say he got Alzheimer's.
-No, he got tired. Even kindly old rabbit gentlemen get tired.
-Tired of what?
-Everything. Of life. Of 'la chase'. Of love. Of show business.
-He was in show business?
-Yes. He retired to New Jersey in 1933 at the height of his career.
-Did he get famous? Or rich?
-'It kinda depends what you mean. He did win the Snooker prize.
-The what prize?
- Whatever's that?
- For what?
-A literary contest. They had a special category called 'Nonsense Biography'. It was the first and last year. It paid nothing.
-Poor Uncle Wiggly. Can you tell me anything more about him?
-Yes. And I will-
(the girls, individually in turn, leaning forward)
-'if our fire shovel doesn't go out to play-'
-'in the sand pile and get it's ears full of dirt-'
-'We'll tell you about Uncle Wiggly on the Concorde.'
-Wait a minute...on the Concorde?
-Morgan, you'll just have to be there.
-I will. Good night, girls.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem