A Wig Most Peculiar

Being the Novel Tale of Odd Fool'ry

A Wig Most Peculiar

By Phil Rot

“Ho, Tanny boy, heaven doth becrowned thee a most fortunate dapplery.”

Lord Finsley beamed. “Oh, my new wig, dost thou enjoyeth?” He did a twirl about the parlor, causing the lovely young maidens to swoon, for atop the fancy Lord’s head, there rested a wig most peculiar in shape and girth.

“Judging by the looks of the maidens, how they blusheth so, I’d say you’ve made quite an appropriate–but lay, I should add that your new boufant resteth ever so askew, one mightn’t mistaketh it for carnal artifact.”

The Lord laughed. “Deary me, thou has’nt heardeth? Why! the Spike’d Lamb is the height of popularity. See how it rests ascant betwixt my beltwraps, haven’t you ever seen such whimsy in all your boyhood?”