With A Sort Of Mental Squint.

What Do You Suppose Is The Use Of A Child Without Any Meaning? Even A Joke Should Have Some Meaning-- And A Child's More Imporant Than A Joke, I Hope. You Couldn't Deny That, Even If You Tried With Both Hands.

In Another Moment Down Went Alice After It, Never Once Considering How In The World She Was To Get Out Again.

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

I Wonder If The Snow Loves The Trees And Fields, That It Kisses Them So Gently? And Then It Covers Them Up Snug, You Know, With A White Quilt; And Perhaps It Says "go To Sleep, Darlings, Till The Summer Comes Again.

And How Do You Know That You're Mad?