'You take my word,' said Captain Bill, 'they'll do it to you every time!'
'I don't mind in principal,' replied Horace, 'but I just don't have the money...I'm a poet.'
'Beats me why they have to have so many anyway,' continued Captain Bill, 'I mean you've only got one head which in my book applies clear limitations to the number of hats a person needs.'
'I'm just a poet!' repeated Horace.
'Which while an honorable profession is not renowned for it's income providing properties,' replied Captain Bill.
Horace nodded in agreement.
'It's a calling...you don't go into it for the money.'
'A noble attitude,' said Captain Bill, 'and considering your publishing record a highly necessary one.'
'I just don't know what to do!' mooed Horace.
'Have you considered limericks?' asked Captain Bill.
'No, I meant about Norma's hats,' replied Horace.
'Oh right!' said Captain Bill.
And Horace headed off down to the beach to talk to Norma.
'There once was a poet called Horace,' began Captain Bill.
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