There Are Few Things Sweeter In This

Of Course The Man Was Wild Too. He Was Dreadfully Wild. He Didn't Even Begin To Be Tame Till He Met The Woman, And She Told Him That She Did Not Like Living In His Wild Ways. She Picked Out A Nice Dry Cave, Instead Of A Heap Of Wet Leaves, To Lie Down In; And She Strewed Clean Sand On The Floor; And She Lit A Nice Fire Of Wood At The Back Of The Cave; And She Hung A Dried Wild-horse Skin, Tail Down, Across The Opening Of The Cave; And She Said, 'wipe Your Feet, Dear, When You Come In, And Now We'll Keep House.

Well, If I Am A Man, A Man I Must Become.

A Black Shadow Dropped Down Into The Circle. It Was Bagheera The Black Panther, Inky Black All Over, But With The Panther Markings Showing Up In Certain Lights Like The Pattern Of Watered Silk. Everybody Knew Bagheera, And Nobody Cared To Cross His Path, For He Was As Cunning As Tabaqui, As Bold As The Wild Buffalo, And As Reckless As The Wounded Elephant. But He Had A Voice As Soft As Wild Honey Dripping From A Tree, And A Skin Softer Than Down.

Being Kissed By A Man Who Didn't Wax His Moustache Was-like Eating An Egg Without Salt.

When Young Lips Have Drunk Deep Of The Bitter Waters Of Hate, Suspicion And Despair, All The Love In The World Will Not Wholly Take Away That Knowledge. Though It May Turn Darkened Eyes For A While To The Light, And Teach Faith Where No Faith Was.