The Goodness Of Your True Pun Is

And Then There Stole Into My Fancy, Like A Rich Musical Note, The Thought Of What Sweet Rest There Must Be In The Grave.

Even In The Grave, All Is Not Lost.

Villains!' I Shrieked. 'dissemble No More! I Admit The Deed! Tear Up The Planks! Here, Here! It Is The Beating Of His Hideous Heart!

A Mystery, And A Dream, Should My Early Life Seem.

The Goodness Of Your True Pun Is In The Direct Ratio Of Its Intolerability.