Come Along Inside... We'll See If Tea

Take The Adventure, Heed The Call, Now Ere The Irrevocable Moment Passes! 'tis But A Banging Of The Door Behind You, A Blithesome Step Forward, And You Are Out Of Your Old Life And Into The New!

The Rat, Meanwhile, Was Busy Examining The Label On One Of The Beer-bottles. "i Perceive This To Be Old Burton," He Remarked Approvingly. "sensible Mole! The Very Thing! Now We Shall Be Able To Mull Some Ale. Get The Things Ready, Mole, While I Draw The Corks."

There Is Nothing -- Absolutely Nothing -- Half So Much Worth Doing As Simply Messing About In Boats. In Or Out Of 'em, It Doesn't Matter. Nothing Seems Really To Matter, That's The Charm Of It. Whether You Get Away, Or Whether You Don't; Whether You Arrive At Your Destination Or Whether You Reach Somewhere Else, Or Whether You Never Get Anywhere At All, You're Always Busy, And You Never Do Anything In Particular; And When You've Done It There's Always Something Else To Do, And You Can Do It If You Like, But You'd Much Better Not.

It's Not The Sort Of Night For Bed, Anyhow.

It Is The Restrictions Placed On Vice By Our Social Code Which Makes Its Pursuit So Peculiarly Agreeable.