If I Had A World Of My

His Answer Trickled Through My Head Like Water Through A Sieve.

Death Is Always Sad, I Suppose, To Us Who Look Forward To It: I Expect It Will Seem Very Different When We Can Look Back Upon It.

And Ever, As The Story Drained The Wells Of Fancy Dry, And Faintly Strove That Weary One To Put The Subject By, "the Rest Next Time--" "it Is Next Time!" The Happy Voice Cry. Thus Grew The Tale Of Wonderland

Begin At The Beginning And Go On Till You Come To The End; Then Stop.

You Could Not See A Cloud, Because No Cloud Was In The Sky: No Birds Were Flying Overhead - There Were No Birds To Fly.