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From the north of England... A greedy young fellow from York Was exceptionally fond of roast pork. When he saw the dish come He'd cry 'Yummy, yum-yum!' And excitedly flourish his fork. to the south of France... A cheerful young fellow named Trev Went off for a romp in Lodève. But he soon lost his smile When he caught something vile In a house of delight called Mon Rêve. this little book of limericks - mostly naughty rather than downright rude (but there are exceptions!) - ranges far and wide. Open it and learn how a knight-errant with a lisp can still command respect; how ladies on the autoroute don't give their favours away for free, and how tajine is really only a posh word for stew.
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