But what if he was from Martha's Vineyard, what then, eh?

In a recent poetic post, I referenced the "man from Nantucket" limerick. And then it occurred to me that, despite this verse's being the paradigm of obscenity -- and despite me being me -- I had no idea how it went on after the first line.

(Perhaps it's one of those things that's funnier if it's left to the imagination, which is why I resist all entreaties to actually write a book about the foul adventures of the fouler Finsbury the Ferret, the foulest character of my character, Oliver Swithin.)

So imagine my amazement when I discovered that the original author had penned an inoffensive little place-name pun, little knowing that he'd baited the hook for generations of dirty-minded poetasters to come. From a 1902 edition of the Princeton Tiger:

There once was a man from Nantucket

Who kept all his cash in a bucket.

    But his daughter, named Nan,

    Ran away with a man

And as for the bucket, Nantucket.

There. I read Wikipedia so you don't have to.