We Must Scrunch Or Be Scrunched.

He Had But One Eye, And The Popular Prejudice Runs In Favor Of Two.

Oh, A Dainty Plant Is The Ivy Green, That Creepeth O'er Ruins Old! Of Right Choice Food Are His Meals, I Ween, In His Cell So Lone And Cold. Creeping Where No Life Is Seen, A Rare Old Plant Is The Ivy Green.

Good Never Come Of Such Evil, A Happier End Was Not In Nature To So Unhappy A Beginning.

He Had A Sense Of His Dignity, Which Was Of The Most Exquisite Nature. He Could Detect A Design Upon It When Nobody Else Had Any Perception Of The Fact. His Life Was Made An Agony By The Number Of Fine Scalpels That He Felt To Be Incessantly Engaged In Dissecting His Dignity.

A Display Of Indifference To All The Actions And Passions Of Mankind Was Not Supposed To Be Such A Distinguished Quality At That Time, I Think, As I Have Observed It To Be Considered Since. I Have Known It Very Fashionable Indeed. I Have Seen It Displayed With Such Success, That I Have Encountered Some Fine Ladies And Gentlemen Who Might As Well Have Been Born Caterpillars.