Of All Ghosts The Ghosts Of Our

Conceive A Jelly-fish Such As Sails In Our Summer Seas, Bell-shaped And Of Enormous Size - Far Larger, I Should Judge, Than The Dome Of St. Paul's. It Was Of A Light Pink Colour Veined With A Delicate Green, But The Whole Huge Fabric So Tenuous That It Was But A Fairy Outline Against The Dark Blue Sky. It Pulsated With A Delicate And Regular Rhythm. From It There Depended Two Long Drooping, Green Tentacles, Which Swayed Slowly Backwards And Forwards. This Gorgeous Vision Passed Gently With Noiseless Dignity Over My Head, As Light And Fragile As A Soap-bubble, And Drifted Upon Its Stately Way.

Ah! My Dear Watson, There We Come Into Those Realms Of Conjecture, Where The Most Logical Mind May Be At Fault. Sherlock Holmes Speaking With Dr. Watson.

I Am Engaged In Answering That Italian Buffoon, Mazotti, Whose Views Upon The Larval Development Of The Tropical Termites Have Excited My Derision And Contempt . . .

You Would Not Call Me A Marrying Man, Watson?" "no, Indeed!" "you'll Be Interested To Hear That I'm Engaged." "my Dear Fellow! I Congrat-" "to Milverton's Housemaid." "my Dear Holmes!" "i Wanted Information, Watson.

The Best Way Of Successfully Acting A Part Is To Be It.