What A Strange World We

Curiouser And Curiouser.

Lastly, She Pictured To Herself How This Same Little Sister Of Hers Would, In The After-time, Be Herself A Grown Woman; And How She Would Keep, Through All Her Riper Years, The Simple And Loving Heart Of Her Childhood: And How She Would Gather About Her Other Little Children, And Make Their Eyes Bright And Eager With Many A Strange Tale, Perhaps Even With The Dream Of Wonderland Of Long Ago: And How She Would Feel With All Their Simple Sorrows, And Find A Pleasure In All Their Simple Joys, Remembering Her Own Child-life, And The Happy Summer Days.

But Oh, Beamish Nephew, Beware Of The Day, If Your Snark Be A Boojum! For Then You Will Softly And Suddenly Vanish Away, And Never Be Met With Again!

I'd Give All The Wealth That Years Have Piled, The Slow Result Of Life's Decay, To Be Once More A Little Child For One Bright Summer Day.

In A Wonderland They Lie, Dreaming As The Days Go By