The Bicycle, The Bicycle Surely, Should Always

Animal Crackers, And Cocoa To Drink That Is The Finest Of Suppers, I Think When I'm Grown Up And Can Have What I Please, I Think I Shall Always Insist Upon These.

Standing By The Crib Of One's Own Baby, With That World - Old Pang Of Compassion And Protectiveness Toward This So Little Creature That Has All Its Course To Run, The Heart Flies Back In Yearning And Gratitude To Those Who Felt Just So Toward One's Self. Then For The First Time One Understands The Homely Succession Of Sacrifices And Pains By Which Life Is Transmitted And Fostered Down The Stumbling Generations Of Men.

That's What This Country Needs -- More Books!

No One Appreciates The Very Special Genius Of Your Conversation As The Dog Does.

Beware Of The Conversationalist Who Adds "in Other Words." He Is Merely Starting Afresh.