The Eighteen Bottles
     
   
      I had eighteen bottles of whiskey in my cellar and was told by my
wife to empty the contents of each and every bottle down the sink, or
else...  I said I would and proceeded with the unpleasant task.  I
withdrew the cork from the first bottle and poured the contents down the
sink with the exception of one glass, which I drank.  I then withdrew the
cork from the second bottle and did likewise with it, with the exception
of one glass, which I drank.  I then withdrew the cork from the third
bottle and poured the whiskey down the sink which I drank.  I pulled the
cork from the fourth bottle down the sink and poured the bottle down the
glass, which I drank.  I pulled the bottle from the cork of the next and
drank one sink out of it, and threw the rest down the glass.  I pulled the
sink out of the next glass and poured the cork down the bottle.  Then I
corked the sink with the glass, bottled the drink and drank the pour.
When I had everything emptied, I steadied the house with one hand, counted
the glasses, corks, bottles, and sinks with the other, which were
twenty-nine, and as the houses came by I counted them again, and finally I
had all the houses in one bottle, which I drank.  I'm not under the
affluence of incohol as some thinkle peep I am.  I'm not half as thunk as
you might drink.  I fool so feelish I don't know who is me, and the
drunker I stand here, the longer I get.