He came from where he started
And was going where he went.
He hadn't had a smell of food,
Not even had a scent.
He never even muttered once
Till he began to talk,
And when he left the kitchen door
He took the garden walk.
He said: "There's no one with me,
Because I am alone;
I might have scintillated once;
My clothes have always shone.
I got here 'fore the other ones
Because I started first:
The reason I look shabby is
Because I'm dressed the worst."
Then I asked him where he came from--
This was just before we parted,
And he muttered indistinctly,
"Oh, I come from where I started!"
