My mother, born in Detroit in 1921 of English/Scottish descent, used to frustrate me with this version when I asked for one too many bedtime stories: It was a dark and stormy night. And seated 'round the campfire were brigands young, and brigands old. And the captain turned to his brave lieutenant and said, "Alphonse, tell us a story." And Alphonse began...
It was a dark and stormy night
It was a dark and stormy night. And seated 'round the campfire were brigands young, and brigands old. And the captain turned to his brave lieutenant and said, "Alphonse, tell us a story." And Alphonse began...