Dr.
Seuss's Sleep Book.
This book is to be read in bed.
The news just came in from the county of Keck that a very small bug by the name of Van Flag is yawning so wide you can look down his neck.
This may not seem very important,
I know,
But it is,
So I'm bothering telling you so.
A yawn is quite catching,
You see,
Like a cough.
It just takes one yawn to start other yawns off.
Now the news has come in that some friends of Van Flag's are yawning so wide you can look down their necks.
At this moment,
Right now,
Under seven more noses,
Great yawns are in blossom.
They're blooming like roses.
The yawn of that one little bug is still spreading.
According to latest reports,
It is heading across the wide fields,
Through the sleepy night air,
Across the whole country,
Toward every which way.
And people are gradually starting to say,
Oh,
I feel rather drowsy.
Oh,
I've had quite a day.
Creatures are starting to think about rest.
Two bifurbum birds are now building their nest.
They do it each night,
And quite often I wonder how they do this big job without making a blunder.
But that is their problem,
Not yours,
And not mine.
The point is,
They're going to bed,
And that's fine.
Sleep thoughts are spreading throughout the whole land.
The time for night brushing of teeth is at hand.
Up at Herkimer Falls,
Where the great river rushes and crashes down,
Crags and great,
Gurgling,
Gargling,
Gushes.
The Herkimer sisters are using their brushes.
Those falls are just grand for tooth brushing beneath if you happen to be up that way with your teeth.
The news just came in from the castle of Krupp that the lights are all out and the drawbridge is up.
And the old drawbridge drawer just said with a yawn,
My drawbridge is drawn,
And it's going to stay drawn till the milkman delivers the milk about dawn.
I'm going to bed now,
So nobody better come round with a special delivery letter.
The number of sleepers is steadily growing.
Bed is where more and more people are going.
In Culpeper Springs,
In the Stilt-Walkers Hall,
The Stilt-Walkers stilts are all stacked on the wall.
The Stilt-Walker walkers have called it a day,
And they're all tuckered out in their snoozing away.
This is very big news,
It's important to know,
And that's why I'm bothering telling you so.
In the west,
In the town of Merced,
The Hinklehorn Honking Club just went to bed.
Every horn has been quietly hung on a hook for the night in its own private Hinklehorn Nook.
Oh,
This long happy day they've been honking about,
And the Hinklehorn Honkers have honked themselves out.
But they'll wake up quite fresh in the morning,
And then they'll start right in Hinklehorn honking again.
Everywhere,
Creatures are falling asleep.
The collapsible Frink just collapsed in a heap.
And by adding the Frink to the others before,
I am able to give you the Who's Asleep score.
Right now,
40,
404 creatures are happily,
Deeply in slumber.
I think you'll agree that's a whopping fine number.
Do you walk in your sleep?
I just had a report of some interesting news of this popular sport.
Near Finnegan Fen,
There's a sleepwalking group,
Which not only walks,
But it walks on their hoop.
Every night,
They go miles,
Where they walk to such length they have to keep eating to keep up their strength.
So every so often,
One puts down his hoop,
Stops hooping,
And does some quick snooping for soup.
That's why they are known as the Hoop-Soup-Snoop Group.
Sleepwalking,
Too,
Are the curious Crandles,
Who sleepwalk on hills with assorted-sized candles.
The Crandles walk nightly in slumbering peace,
In spite of slight burns from the hot,
Dripping grease.
The Crandles wear candles because they walk far,
And if they wake up,
Want to see where they are.
Now,
The news has arrived from the Valley of Vale that a Chippendale Mup has just bitten his tail,
Which he does every night before shutting his eyes.
Such nipping sounds silly,
But really,
It's wise.
He has no alarm clock,
So this is the way he'll make sure that he wake at the right time of day.
His tail is so long,
He won't feel any pain till the nip makes the trip and gets up to his brain.
In exactly eight hours,
This Chippendale Mup will at last feel the bite and yell,
Ouch!
And wake up.
A Mr.
And Mrs.
J.
Carmichael Crocs have just gone to bed near the town of Fort Knox,
And they,
By the way,
Have the finest of clocks.
I'm not at all sure I quite,
Quite understand just how the thing works with that one extra hand,
But I do know this clock does one very slick trick.
It doesn't tick-tock.
How it goes is tock-tick.
So it ticks and it's tocker,
And tocks and it's tickered,
Saves lots of time,
And the sleepers sleep quicker.
What a fine night for sleeping.
From all that I hear,
It's the best night for sleeping in many a year.
They're even asleep in the Zwiebeck Motel,
And people don't usually sleep there too well.
The beds are like rocks,
And as everyone knows,
The sheets are too short.
They won't cover your toes.
So,
If people are actually sleeping in there,
It's a great night for sleeping.
It must be the air.
Do you know who's asleep out in Funa Laguna?
Two very nice Funa Laguna baboona.
We've added them into our Who's Asleep count,
Which has grown to a really amazing amount.
Exactly 8,
808,
000 creatures are sleeping now.
Isn't that great?
A jet is in bed,
And the bed of a jet is the softest of beds in the world,
It is said.
He makes it from pom-poms,
He grows on his head,
And he's sleeping right now on the softest of fluff,
Completely exhausted from growing the stuff.
The news has come in from the district of Dov that two oft are asleep,
And they're sleeping aloft.
And how are they able to sleep off the ground?
I'll tell you.
I weighed one last week,
And I found that an oft is so light,
He weighs minus one pound.
Speaking of dreaming,
I think you should note that the Bumble Tub Club is now dreaming afloat.
Every night they go dreaming down Bumble Tub Creek,
Except for one night every third or fourth week when they stop for repairs,
Because their bumble tubs leak.
But tonight they're afloat,
Full of dreams,
Full of bliss,
And that's why I'm bothering telling you.
Everywhere creatures have shut off their voices,
And they've all gone to bed in the beds of their choices.
They're sleeping in bushes,
They're sleeping in crannies,
Some on their stomachs and some on their fannies.
They're peacefully sleeping in comfortable holes,
Some even on soft-tufted barbershop poles.
The number of sleepers is now past the millions.
The number of sleepers is now in the billions.
They're sleeping on steps and on strings and on floors,
In mailboxes,
Ships,
And the keyholes of doors.
Every worm on a fishhook is safe for the night.
Every fish in the sea is too sleepy to bite.
Every whale in the ocean has turned off his spout.
Every light between here and far poodle is out.
Adding things up,
We are way beyond zillions.
Our Who's Asleep score is now up in the zillions.
Ninety-nine zillion,
Nine trillion,
And two creatures are sleeping.
So,
How about you?
When you put out your light,
Then the number will be ninety-nine.
