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My name is William and I live in Maine.

Here is my favorite poem:

Ten weary, footsore travellers, All in a woeful plight, Sought shelter at a wayside inn One dark and stormy night.

'Nine rooms, no more,' the landlord said 'Have I to offer you. To each of eight a single bed, But the ninth must serve for two.'

A din arose. The troubled host Could only scratch his head, For of those tired men not two Would occupy one bed.

The puzzled host was soon at ease - He was a clever man - And so to please his guests devised This most ingenious plan.

In a room marked A two men were placed, The third was lodged in B, The fourth to C was then assigned, The fifth retired to D.

In E the sixth he tucked away, In F the seventh man. The eighth and ninth in G and H, And then to A he ran,

Wherein the host, as I have said, Had laid two travellers by; Then taking one - the tenth and last - He logged him safe in I.

Nine singe rooms - a room for each - Were made to serve for ten; And this it is that puzzles me And many wiser men.

(Current Literature vol. 2, April 1889)