So much perfection argues rottenness somewhere.

Peter lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe amongst the potatoes.

Sunday, January 27, 1884. -- There was another story in the paper a week or so since. A gentleman had a favourite cat whom he taught to sit at the dinner table where it behaved very well. He was in the habit of putting any scraps he left onto the cat's plate. One day puss did not take his place punctually, but presently appeared with two mice, one of which it placed on its master's plate, the other on its own.

I fear that we shall be obliged to leave this pudding

Here comes Peter Cottontail right down the bunny trail.

I have just made stories to please myself, because I never grew up.

I am worn to a raveling.