I Am Worn To A Raveling.

Sunday, January 27, 1884. -- There Was Another Story In The Paper A Week Or So Since. A Gentleman Had A Favourite Cat Whom He Taught To Sit At The Dinner Table Where It Behaved Very Well. He Was In The Habit Of Putting Any Scraps He Left Onto The Cat's Plate. One Day Puss Did Not Take His Place Punctually, But Presently Appeared With Two Mice, One Of Which It Placed On Its Master's Plate, The Other On Its Own.

Peter Was Not Very Well During The Evening. His Mother Put Him To Bed, And Made Some Chamomile Tea: "one Table-spoonful To Be Taken At Bedtime.

This Is A Fierce Bad Rabbit; Look At His Savage Whiskers, And His Claws And His Turned-up Tail.

I Have Just Made Stories To Please Myself, Because I Never Grew Up.

Once Upon A Time There Were Four Little Rabbits, And Their Names Were--flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, And Peter.