Excellent!" I Cried. "elementary," Said He.

Indeed, I Cannot Think Why The Whole Bed Of The Ocean Is Not One Solid Mass Of Oysters, So Prolific The Creatures Seem. Ah, I Am Wandering! Strange How The Brain Controls The Brain! What Was I Saying, Watson?

When The Spirits Are Low, When The Day Appears Dark, When Work Becomes Monotonous, When Hope Hardly Seems Worth Having, Just Mount A Bicycle And Go Out For A Spin Down The Road, Without Thought On Anything But The Ride You Are Taking.

Art In The Blood Is Liable To Take The Strangest Forms.

The Fair Sex Is Your Department.

He Spoke Wistfully Of A Sudden Leaving, A Breaking Of Old Ties, A Flight Into A Strange World, Ending In This Dreary Valley, And Ettie Listened, Her Dark Eyes Gleaming With Pity And With Sympathy - Those Two Qualities Which May Turn So Rapidly And So Naturally To Love.