There was one who was famed for the number of things

⁠He forgot when he entered the ship:

His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,

⁠And the clothes he had bought for the trip.

He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,

⁠With his name painted clearly on each:

But, since he omitted to mention the fact,

⁠They were all left behind on the beach.

The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because

⁠He had seven coats on when he came,

With three pairs of boots—but the worst of it was,

⁠He had wholly forgotten his name.