So they shook hands, and then the Knight rode slowly away into the forest. "It won't take long to see him off, I expect," Alice said to herself, as she stood watching him. "There he goes! Right on his head as usual! However, he gets on again pretty easily that comes of having so many things hung round the horse." So she went on talking to herself as she watched the horse walking leisurely along the road, and the Knight tumbling off, first on one side and then on the other. After the fourth or fifth tumble he reached the turn, and then she waved her handkerchief to him, and waited till he was out of sight.

THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER

THE sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:

He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead-
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:

But four young Oysters hurried up,

All eager for the treat:

Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,

Their shoes were clean and neat

And this was odd, because, you know,

They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,

And yet another four;

And thick and fast they came at last,

And more, and more, and more
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,

And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:

And all the little Oysters stood

And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things;

Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax

I wish you were not quite so deaf
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."

With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?”
But answer came there none
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

JABBERWOCKY

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head

He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

ALICE AND PHOEBE CARY

ALICE CARY. Born near Cincinnati, Ohio, April 20, 1820; died in New York, February 12, 1871. Her sister, PHOEBE CARY, was born September 4, 1824, and died at Newport, Rhode Island, July 31, 1871. In the affectionate memory of the American people, they have a most honored place. They were sweet-spirited, hopeful, charitable, and nature-loving. Their graphic "Pictures of Country Life" at "Clovernook," their "Ballads,” "Lyrics," "Snow Berries," and "Hymns," made for them in the world of appreciative readers a host of friends.

(The following selections are used by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston, the publishers.)

AN ORDER FOR A PICTURE

Он, good painter, tell me true,

Has your hand the cunning to draw
Shapes of things that you never saw ?
Aye? Well, here is an order for you.

Woods and cornfields, a little brown,

The picture must not be overbright,