One Girl Is Worth More

He Was A Little Boy, And She Was Grown Up. She Huddled By The Fire Not Daring To Move, Helpless And Guilty, A Big Woman.

Next Year He Did Not Come For Her. She Waited In A New Frock Because The Old One Simply Would Not Meet, But He Never Came. "perhaps He Is Ill," Michael Said. "you Know He Is Never Ill." Michael Came Close To Her And Whispered, With A Shiver, "perhaps There Is No Such Person, Wendy!" And Then Wendy Would Have Cried If Michael Had Not Been Crying.

I Do Believe In Fairies, I Do, I Do.

You Always Know After You Are Two. Two Is The Beginning Of The End.

Oh The Gladness Of Their Gladness When They're Glad, And The Sadness Of Their Sadness When They're Sad; But The Gladness Of Their Gladness, And The Sadness Of Their Sadness, Are As Nothing To Their Badness When They're Bad