It's Fun To Be Almost Grown Up

It Was October Again ... A Glorious October, All Red And Gold, With Mellow Mornings When The Valleys Were Filled With Delicate Mists As If The Spirit Of Autumn Had Poured Them In For The Sun To Drain - Amethyst, Pearl, Silver, Rose, And Smoke-blue. The Dews Were So Heavy That The Fields Glistened Like Cloth Of Silver And There Were Such Heaps Of Rustling Leaves In The Hollows Of Many-stemmed Woods To Run Crisply Through.

Since Ever The World Was Spinning And Till The World Shall End You've Your Man In The Beginning Or You Have Him In The End, But To Have Him From Start To Finish And Neither Nor Borrow Nor Lend Is What All Of The Girls Are Wanting And None Of The Gods Can Send

Nobody Is Ever Too Old To Dream. And Dreams Never Grow Old.

All Things Great Are Wound Up With All Things Little.

Whenever You Looked Forward To Anything Pleasant You Were Sure To Be More Or Less Disappointed . . . Perhaps That Is True. But There Is A Good Side To It Too. The Bad Things Don't Always Come Up To Your Expectations Either . . . They Nearly Always Turn Out Ever So Much Better Than You Think.