To Smile At The Jest Which Plants

Pity Those Whom Nature Abuses, Never Those Who Abuse Nature.

I Would By No Means Wish A Daughter Of Mine To Be A Progeny Of Learning.

An Aspersion Upon My Parts Of Speech!

If The Thought Is Slow To Come, A Glass Of Good Wine Encourages It; And When It Does Come, A Glass Of Good Wine Rewards It.

Nay, But Jack, Such Eyes! Such Eyes! So Innocently Wild! So Bashfully Irresolute! Not A Glance But Speaks And Kindles Some Thought Of Love! Then, Jack, Her Cheeks! Her Cheeks, Jack! So Deeply Blushing At The Insinuations Of Her Tell-tale Eyes! Then, Jack, Her Lips! O, Jack, Lips Smiling At Their Own Discretion! And, If Not Smiling, More Sweetly Pouting - More Lovely In Sullenness! Then, Jack, Her Neck! O, Jack, Jack!