The mystery of the missing rocking chair

   
      Howdy, as you most probably know by now, the name's Winston. I just woke up from my nap.

      Yesterday was as weird as Myron's lamps. I was about to sit on my rocking chair to escape Ruth's viola, when I went three feet below my favored destination. If it weren't for my duck cane, my bottom would have slammed into the floor of the porch. That would have hurt.  Anyway, for the next few hours, all I could think about was the question of "Who Did It?". Did Ruth sell it? Did the girl scouts take it hostage? Where could it be?