It takes a long time to make a painter - even with a good artist's education - but without one it tries the patience of Job; it is a great thing if one does not go backward.

The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat: They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note. . . They dined on mince and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon, The moon, The moon, They danced by the light of the moon.

There was an Old Man of Columbia, Who was thirsty, and called out for some beer; But they brought it quite hot, in a small copper pot, Which disgusted that Man of Columbia.

When awful darkness and silence reign Over the great Gromboolian plain, Through the long, long wintry nights.

They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon.

There was an Old Man with an owl, Who continued to bother and howl; He sate on a rail, and imbibed bitter ale, Which refreshed that Old Man and his owl.

There was an Old Man of the East, Who gave all his children a feast; But they all ate so much, and their conduct was such, That it killed that Old Man of the East.