It'll Be All Right, My Fine Fellow,"

The River , Corrected The Rat, It's My World...what It Hasn't Got Is Not Worth Having.

But Mole Stood Still A Moment, Held In Thought. As One Wakened Suddenly From A Beautiful Dream, Who Struggles To Recall It, But Can Recapture Nothing But A Dim Sense Of The Beauty In It, The Beauty! Till That, Too, Fades Away In Its Turn, And The Dreamer Bitterly Accepts The Hard, Cold Waking And All Its Penalties.

Monkeys Who Very Sensibly Refrain From Speech, Lest They Should Be Set To Earn Their Livings.

It's Not The Sort Of Night For Bed, Anyhow.

Well, Very Long Ago, On The Spot Where The Wild Wood Waves Now, Before Ever It Had Planted Itself And Grown Up To What It Now Is, There Was A City - A City Of People, You Know