Go on, You Say It!

Francis the Foolish felt a filial fondness for his flawless, fastidious father, Ferdinand the Fourth. Following one February fortnight, Francis, feeling footloose and frisky, forced his fond father to fork over five hundred forty five farthings, then fled his fathers fertile fief.                                                 

Fleeing to foreign fields, Francis finally frittered away his fortune on fickle females, firkins of foaming ale, freeloading friends and feasting.

Fleeced by those fiendish fellows of the fleshpots, and facing fateful failure and famine, Francis finally found himself flinging foul feed to the swine in a filthy farmyard as a forlorn farmhand. Footsore and famished, he fain would have filled his flaccid frame with filched food but found it fit for only a footman.

"Fie!" flared Francis, "My Father's flunkies fare far finer."

 Fortunately the frazzled fugitive finally faced the facts. Frustrated from failure and fulfilled foreboding, he fled forthwith to his far away family.

Falling fatigued at his father's feet, Francis feebly phrased his feelings: "Father," he fumbled, "I've flunked - and fruitlessly forfeited family favour ... forgive me."

The far-sighted father, forestalling future family fissures flagged his flunkies. "Fetch a fatling from the flock and fix a feast for Francis. Forthwith. Fall to Faster!"

Frederic the Feculent, Francis' feisty, fault-finding brother, frowned upon his father's forgiveness of Francis' former philandering."Flog the Flounder!" he fumed. But the faithful felt that Francis' former foibles should be freely forgiven. "Filial fidelity is what fathers are for, Frederick," said Ferdinand with feelings flowing.

“Forsooth, the fugitive is found, so what forbids festivity? Fly the flags freely, amid fifes, fiddles and fanfares . . .FLING A FEAST!"   

Francis, face flushed, foreswore frippery forevermore by forcing his frame into a friar's frock.

     (Stanley Baldwin)

 

 

The Prodigal Son