Let Us Be Moral. Let Us Contemplate

"it Wasn't The Wine," Murmured Mr. Snodgrass, In A Broken Voice. "it Was The Salmon."

Skewered Through And Through With Office-pens, And Bound Hand And Foot With Red Tape.

For It Is Good To Be Children Sometimes, And Never Better Than At Christmas, When Its Mighty Founder Was A Child Himself.

Every Idiot Who Goes About With A 'merry Christmas' On His Lips Should Be Boiled With His Own Pudding, And Buried With A Stake Of Holly Through His Heart.

It Will Be Your Duty, And It Will Be Your Pleasure Too To Estimate Her (as You Chose Her) By The Qualities That She Has, And Not By The Qualities She May Not Have.