I Think That I Had Better Go,

The Sky Was Of The Deepest Blue, With A Few White, Fleecy Clouds Drifting Lazily Across It, And The Air Was Filled With The Low Drone Of Insects Or With A Sudden Sharper Note As Bee Or Bluefly Shot Past With Its Quivering, Long-drawn Hum, Like An Insect Tuning-fork.

It Is Not My Intention To Be Fulsome, But I Confess That I Covet Your Skull.

The Times Is A Paper Which Is Seldom Found In Any Hands But Those Of The Highly Educated.

The Larger Crimes Are Apt To Be The Simpler, For The Bigger The Crime, The More Obvious, As A Rule, Is The Motive.

Even The Best Of Us Are Thrown Off Some- Times.