Did you think, O my Best Beloved, that we were all through with the Rhinoceros, once the Parsee's cake-crumbs folded his skin and spoiled his temper ? Not so. After the Parsee had gone away in the direction of Oratovo, Amygdala, the Upland Meadows of Anantarivo, and the Marshes of Sonaput, the Rhinoceros went stomping and stamping and roaring all about the Exclusively Uninhabited Interior which abuts on the islands of Mazanderan, Socotra, and the Promontories of the Larger Equinox, very angry indeed, horribly scratchy, and with no way whatsoever to express the veriness of his angry nor the horribleness of his scratchy other than to stamp and stomp and roar. The Rhinoceros roared and stomped and stamped all about the Uninhabited Interior, until his neighbors (who had moved in while he was rubbing and rubbing and rubbing himself against the palm-tree) asked, all together, but nicely, ‘ A little less noise there ?’
The Rhinoceros had very few manners, but one of the few was to quiet down when his neighbors asked him, all together, but nicely, to make a little less noise there. So, he went on stamping and stomping but not roaring all about the Uninhabited Interior, staying on the paths so as not to trample his neighbors' gardens (that was another one of his very few manners), and he thrashed the horn on his nose, and glared with his two piggy eyes, but that did not make so much noise as the roaring, so it was perfectly suited to his very few manners.
When the Rhinoceros had stamped and stomped but not roared, and he had thrashed the horn on his nose, and glared with his two piggy eyes, not making so much noise as when he had roared, and he had tramped up and down all of the paths in the Uninhabited Interior (without trampling his neighbors' gardens), he was tired and hungry, so he grazed upon the grasses of his herbivorous diet, and took a rest right in the middle of the Principal Path of the Uninhabited Interior.
In the sparkly morning, the Rhinoceros got up again, and pooped a great large pile of dung right in the middle of the Principal Path of the Uninhabited Interior. (He had used up his very few manners making a little less noise there and not trampling his neighbors' gardens.) It was greater and larger than the dung that your rich uncle's horse pooped before the hunt all over the gravel that the stable boy had to clean up before the vicar visited. It was even greater and larger than what you stepped in while crossing that pasture that you were ever so kindly asked not to cross, and that made your mother quite unhappy, but not so unhappy as the boy who cleans the boots. For days and weeks in those High and Far-Off Times, the Rhinoceros stamped and stomped about the paths (the Lesser Paths, as well as the Principal Path) of the Exclusively Uninhabited Interior, pooping great large piles of dung whenever and wherever he pleased. The great large piles of dung in the paths annoyed the neighbors ever so much, but even when they asked, all together, but nicely, he refused most emphatically to stop, having used up his very few manners making a little less noise there and not trampling his neighbors' gardens.
For weeks and months in those High and Far-Off Times, the Rhinoceros went on stomping and stamping about the paths of the Uninhabited Interior, until many of the Lesser Paths were quite impassable for the great large piles of dung. The neighbors were ever so worried that the whole of the Uninhabited Interior would soon be Inaccessible as well, and they would have to move house to the Uninhabited Interior of some other uninhabited island, farther along the shores of the Red Sea. But, after all of those days and weeks, and weeks and months, who should come along to the uninhabited island, but the Elephant's Child's father, traveling on important Elephant business from Africa (where, you remember, on the banks of the great grey-green greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever-trees, the Crocodile had stretched his mere-smear nose into a really truly trunk).
The Elephant's Child's father walked along the Principal Path of the Exclusively Uninhabited Interior, frisking and whisking his trunk, when he stopped suddenly in front of a great large pile of dung, which annoyed him ever so much. ‘ Who has pooped this great large pile of dung, which blocks the Principal Path of the Exclusively Uninhabited Interior, and annoys me ever so much,’ roared the Elephant's Child's father through his really truly trunk (and you may imagine how awesome was the sound). The neighbors were so startled that they jumped from their gardens, but instead of asking, all together, but nicely, ‘ A little less noise there,’ they replied, all together, but nicely, ‘ O awesome Elephant's Child's father, with your really truly trunk that is so much better than a mere-smear nose, the Rhinoceros whose skin is folded and whose temper is spoiled goes stomping and stamping about and pooping these great large piles of dung, having used up all of his very few manners making a little less noise there and not trampling our gardens.’ ‘ We shall see about that,’ roared the Elephant's Child's father through his really truly trunk. ‘ In these High and Far-Off Times, no lesser animal with a mere-smear nose, not even a Rhinoceros with a horn on his mere-smear nose, may leave such a great large pile of dung in the path.’
So, the Elephant's Child's father marched off, frisking and whisking his trunk, to find the Rhinoceros with the folded skin and the spoiled temper, and give him what for. This was easy, because the stomping and stamping, while making less noise than roaring, were far from silent, and the Elephant's Child's father's great hugeous ears heard the Rhinoceros from the farthest end of the Uninhabited Interior. The Elephant's Child's father marched right up to the Rhinoceros, who had just pooped another great large pile of dung in the middle of the path, and he roared, ‘ O Rhinoceros, though you have a horn upon it, yours is but a mere-smear nose, and you are but a lesser animal, so you may not leave such great large piles of dung in the path.’ The Rhinoceros snorted back, having used up all of his very few manners making a little less noise there and not trampling his neighbors' gardens. So the Elephant's Child's father spanked the Rhinoceros most sorely with his really truly trunk, until even the Rhinoceros's spoiled temper could not bear it, so he asked the Elephant's Child's father very nicely to stop spanking with his trunk, and he kicked his great large pile of dung all about until the path was clear again.
Although the Elephant's Child's father walked out of the Uninhabited Interior and farther along the shores of the Red Sea upon his important Elephant business, and never came again to the uninhabited island, the Rhinoceros had such a sufficiency of being spanked with a really truly trunk that from that day forward, through the rest of the High and Far-Off Times and even until today, he always kicked his dung all about and never left a great large pile upon the path. But that was really and truly and forever the last of the very few manners that he ever had.
When eating some cake with the Parsee
In the comf'table shade of a palm-tree
Nicely brown, with currants and plums,
Be courteous, be fair,
Don't take more than your share,
And 'spesh'ly, don't spill any crumbs !