I used to be happy most of the time, but that changed this spring when Pa found my collection, the bits of rats, I had stashed behind the woodstove. He locked me here in the cellar, taking my collection with him. Later I smelled it burning. I was desolate.
But it’s important to stay cheerful! I had to have a fresh collection.
What’s more cheerful than clowns?
So I improvised. The wood ashes were my whiteface. I could reach a red plant from my cellar window. It was close enough.
The bike path is close by my window. I persuaded little kids to bring me toy clowns. Not all the clowns were right, but in the end I had 37 of them.
It had to be 37. It’s always 37. I was ready.
Pa and Sissy tried to stay warm with blankets in winter, but they moved out by January. I heard it.
Now the new folks have my clown collection. I hope they feel cheerful. Time for a new collection.
I’m hungry now, but I’m making do. New folks might help.
Pa took the key, but they’ll get in one day.
Wait’ll they find out I’m still down here!

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