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About The Crazymad Writer

FREE EBOOKS FOR ALL, that what I say, FREE EBOOKS FOR ALL, courtesy of ME, The Crazymad Writer. Stories for children and young at heart adults. And remember, my eBooks are FREE FREE FREE!

Time Does Not Exist

Time is an illusion created by mankind

The Crazymad Writer

Time Does Not Exist

Time does not exist…

Ah, but here’s the twist,

It’s always NOW.

 No before or then,

No happy ever after,

For mice and men.

It’s NOW,

It has always been NOW,

Before and after,

Is just a silly dream.

*****

Stories for children and young at heart adults

by The Crazymad Writer – ARRRGH!

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Posted by on November 6, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

Are you normal???

Are you normal?

Do you want to be,

A faceless person in a heaving sea,

With no aims, ambitions, dreams or goals,

Just happily plodding along that road?

Are you slowly dying?

Don’t you feel the magic of each new day,

The sounds of laughter as children play,

The warmth of the sun on your back, so good,

The song of birds, the smell of wood?

 

Are you passing time?   

Don’t you wonder at the sky, so blue?

The start and end so vague to you.

I hear you say, ‘I am happy, still,’

So too is an ant that has no will.

 

 

Wake up, wake up!

It’s not too late,

There still is time to change your fate,

Renounce the normal, do something MAD,

Shock them all create a fad.

 

Be yourself, alive with goals,

With dreams and wonders still untold,

Exult this life in your distinctive way,

It’s yours alone; you must have your say,

Lest you slip into oblivion without a trace…

trumpity trump

 
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Posted by on November 6, 2019 in a thought, trump

 

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Free eBook – really and truly

Free eBooks for sure

https://youtu.be/RpcApV7krHA

It’s a Near Year with even MORE opportunities to download eBooks for free, a gift from me to you. See ya.
***************************************
Alice in Wonderland Christmas

Christmas: A Carol Betwixt

Christmas: A Carol Betwixt,

The Fog

Ali-bonkers

The Witches

HARRY, oh she is a Rotter

Mad Mr Viscous

Beetle About

Horrible Horace

The Three Faerie Sisters

Bertie the Beetle

The Circus of Grotesques

Cracks in the Pavement

Danger is my Middle Name

The School Fete

Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About the E.U. But Were Afraid to Ask

Hobnail Boots

I Fell Down a Waterfall

Aliens Landed in Ballykilduff

Skewed Rhymes

A Beer in a Burger Bar

And a whole lot MORE!!!

I am The Crazymad Writer of children’s stories.

Click HERE to visit my online book shop,

where you can download my eBooks for FREE

 

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Free eBooks for all

Free eBooks for all, now and forever

https://youtu.be/-eGqgU2iH8Y

 

 

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Free eBooks for everyone

Free eBooks for everyone

Yes, they are really and truly FREE

 

Visit the link below – and enjoy

https://www.amazon.com/Gerrard-Wilson/e/B006UCTEX6%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share

 

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Alice in Wonderland Christmas Story

Chapter Seven

Bells, Again

 

“Where are you going, child?” asked the Queen of Hearts, when Alice curtsied, bidding both her and the King goodbye.

“I really have no idea,” Alice admitted, curtsying again, trying to decide which of the two doors might lead her out from the building, the easiest.

Seeing her dilemma, the King said,” It matters not which one you take, both doors will lead you, make no mistake.” (Once again Alice found herself wondering why the King was speaking in rhyme).

Raising an eyebrow, she said, “Both doors will lead me out?”

“Yes,” said the King. “For sure you will walk right out from here, but tread carefully lest Life and Death might hear.”

“Life and Death? You mean that frightful, skeletal thing?” Alice asked the fear patently obvious in her young voice.

The King, however, offered Alice no reply, he just strolled over to another one of his wardrobes and, opening its door, stepped into it. He was gone.

Turning her attention to the Queen of Hearts, Alice tried asking her, to see if she knew anything about Life and Death, but snoring loudly, having fallen asleep on her throne as fast as the King had disappeared into yet another one of his Travelling Palaces, she was of no use.

“I shan’t risk waking her,” Alice whispered. “Going by her mood when fully awake, I dread to think of how cranky she must be when awoken, and especially so before she is good and ready. No, I will have to work this out for myself, taking nothing for granted.”

Just then, from out of the corner of her eye, Alice saw the same little mouse as before, running along the skirting board. “Perhaps that little mouse can tell me where the White Rabbit’s house is located. To be sure, I can’t be that far away, after all of the travelling I have done.”

Alice got down onto her hands and knees (thinking it easier to follow a mouse in this manner), following the fast-moving rodent. Stopping at a hole in the wall, in the corner of the room, she said, “That’s a mouse hole if ever I saw one.” Alice lowered her head, trying to see into its dark interior.

“Excuse me! I said excuse me!”

Shuffling round, to see who was addressing her, Alice was pleasantly surprised to see that it was the Cheshire Cat – and wearing a fine white coloured coat and pants, no less.

“Hello, Cat,” she said with a smile. “What are you doing, here?”

Giving Alice a disapproving look, without even bothering to return her greeting, the Cat said, “I was chasing after that mouse, if you must know. It was to be my supper, but it will surely be many miles away from here by now.” The Cat hissed, displaying its annoyance at missing its intended meal.

“I am terribly sorry to have been the cause of you missing your supper,” Alice apologised. “Not that it makes any difference; I haven’t eaten since I met Father Christmas.” Scratching her head, Alice struggled to remember when she had actually met the old man, “It was last October, I think.”

Grinning, the Cat replied, “That is a long time, considering it’s now well into December.”

Once again, on hearing that it was actually December, Alice fought hard with her memory, trying to remember where the time might have gone. But after trying hard for more than five minutes, she was still none the wiser, so returning to her conversation with the grinning Cat, she said, “If it pleases you, Cat, I might be able to find you something to eat in my Travelling Palace…” Delving a hand into her apron pocket, Alice withdrew the brass key and showed it the Cat.

Edging back apiece, the Cat hissed again, saying, “I prefer to find food by own means, and I can certainly do without suffering from travel sickness in one of those hideous things.” He pointed a paw at one of the wardrobes and began fading away.

“I have no time for that game, now!” Alice retorted. “Will you please reappear?”

Grinning, a scrawny little tail dangling from out of its mouth, the Cheshire Cat reappeared,

“Oh, you didn’t – you can’t have,” said Alice, in shock at the sight of the tail wriggling, so.

Speaking though his grin, the Cat replied, “Why not? I am a cat, you know!”

Choosing her words carefully, for fear he might suddenly swallow the unfortunate mouse, Alice said, “Have you not considered that this poor mouse might be the very same one I met in Wonderland?”

Although still grinning, the Cat’s face displayed a hint of remorse. “The same one?” he asked.

“Yes, the very same one,” said Alice, feeling she might be getting through to the bold feline.

“Did you know him well?” the Cat asked (Alice thought she saw a bit more remorse appearing on the Cat’s grinning face).

“Quite well,” she replied, “and well enough to know that he has a lifelong fear of cats…”

At Alice’s last remark, what little remorse the Cheshire Cat might or might not have been feeling suddenly vanished, and he said, “That’s how we cats like it.” The mouse’s tail began wriggling about in a most agitated manner.

Feeling the situation was now desperate, that the poor mouse might at any moment be eaten alive, Alice begged the Cat to release it, making a promise to find it a Grand Supper, far better than a scrawny old mouse.

“If I let it go,” said the Cat through its tightly clenched teeth, “you will find me a Grand Supper?”

“Yes, yes,” said Alice, panicking that the poor mouse might be eaten alive.

“Fish?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Will there be fish in my Grand Supper?” the Cat asked, his grip on the mouse loosening a touch.

“Yes, as much as you can eat,” Alice promised (though, in truth, she had absolutely no idea where she might find some).

“In that case,” said the Cat, releasing its grip on the rodent, “the mouse is free.” Running across to Alice, the mouse began thanking her for saving its life.

Picking up the small creature, immediately recognising it as the very same mouse she had met in the pool of tears, Alice said, “Hello again, I am so pleased to see you, and all in the one piece.”

The Mouse shuddered at the thought of being in more than one piece. Then sizing up Alice, it said, “My how you’ve grown, the last time I saw you, you were no taller than a grasshopper’s knee.”

“And you recited the ‘Mouse’s Tail’.”

“Hmm,” the Mouse replied, remembering her less than polite reception of his epic story.

“My supper?” said the Cat, butting in.

“I beg your pardon,” said Alice (you see, she had already forgotten about her promise to find the Cat a Grand Supper).

“If I have to wait any longer,” he said, “it will be past December and well into January before I have eaten.”

“I am so sorry, Cat,” said Alice, in fright that she could be so unthinking to a dumb animal.

“I heard that,” the Cat warned, giving her a curt look, for thinking of him as something that was so blatantly untrue, and also quite hurtful.

“It was just a figure of speech,” Alice explained; perplexed at how the Cat had been able to read her thoughts, in the first place. “Though in this case,” she explained, “it was a figure of thought, I think…”

Returning her attention to the Mouse, Alice asked was it also hungry. It said that it was. After placing the Mouse into her apron pocket, Alice asked the Cat to lead the way out from the building (although Alice assumed the Cat knew the way, she had no intention of taking it for granted).

Although it was still snowing heavily outside, and bitterly cold to boot, there was no sign to be seen of Life and Death, so pulling her coat tightly closed and tugging hard on her hat (the wind was blowing wildly by now) Alice followed the Cat through the bleak wintry landscape. Beneath Alice’s coat, tucked up snug in her apron pocket, the Mouse was fast asleep, oblivious to the extreme weather that she and the Cat were forced to endure.

“I know that I should be following my nose,” thought Alice, “but the Cat is following his – that must surely be as good.”  Just then, stepping into a deep drift of snow, Alice felt the cold particles making their way down the inside of her boots. “I do hope it’s not too far,” she said, pulling herself out, running awkwardly, and trying to catch up with the free-thinking feline. Squinting, trying to see the Cat, Alice said, “I wish his clothes were of another colour. White is just so hard to see in this snow.”

Unhearing, the Cat kept up his fast pace, fading in and out at regular intervals. In fact they were so regular Alice suspected he was doing it on purpose, to annoy her.

After trekking through the snow for a good thirty minutes, the Cat suddenly stopped, allowing Alice to finally catch up.

Still grinning, he said, “Well?”

“Well – what?” she asked, in surprise that he had stopped, let alone be asking her questions.

“Where is my Supper?”

“Your Supper?” said Alice, looking about herself, wondering where she could hope to procure the promised Grand Supper, in so bleak a landscape.

His yellow eyes narrowing, the Cat hissed, “I have brought you this far, now it’s your turn – you did promise…”

“I know, I hadn’t forgotten,” said Alice, telling a white lie (for she had in truth completely forgotten about the promised meal).

“Where is the Mouse?” asked the Cat licking his lips as he spoke. Alice was sure she saw little dribbles of saliva running down from them).

Fearing for the Mouse’s safety, Alice wished that she had all the food necessary for the promised Grand Supper. She wished and she wished, and then she wished some more until after what seemed like an eternally of wishing she heard the sound of bells ringing, ringing joyfully from somewhere high above her.

“Look!” shouted the Cat, pointing into the snowy sky, with a paw. “Is that who I think it is?” he asked, meowing with excitement.

“It’s Father Christmas – I am sure of it!” Alice shouted, taking off her hat and waving it even though she saw nothing at all. “But I can’t see him, for all this snow!”

Seeing her consternation, the Cat said, “Don’t you mind, my dear, us cats have far better eyesight than you humans – even that of little girls. I can see him clearly enough for us all. He’s up there, believe me.”

Although believing the Cat, Alice’s eyes continued (but in vain) to search the wintry sky for signs of Father Christmas and his sky vehicle.

As the sound of the sleigh bells grew louder, Alice’s heart beat faster and faster, until she feared at any moment it might jump out from her chest and leave her totally heartless. “I do hope he arrives soon,” she said holding her chest, trying to calm her speeding heart, and hoping that the sound of it didn’t awaken the sleeping mouse.

“Can you see him, now?” asked the Cheshire Cat, surprised that she was still trying to the fast-approaching sleigh.

“No, Cat, I cannot see a thing through all this snow,” Alice bemoaned, worried that she might miss the arrival of the old man.

Pointing a paw, the Cat said, “Look, he’s close to us now. He’s over there, to the left.”

Alice looked to the left, but she saw nothing.

“Get back!” the Cat suddenly shouted, slapping Alice with one of its paws, scratching her face.

Falling hard to the ground, Alice almost disappeared into the thick layer of snow. “Why did you do that?” she asked, struggling to her feet and rubbing the painful scratch, only to be struck down again by the troublesome feline. The sound of sleigh bells, reindeer and a jolly old man laughing away heartily, whizzing past just over their heads, told her why; Father Christmas was landing.

Pulling herself up, Alice said, “I do wish you would stop doing that, I shall be covered all over in cuts and bruises if you continue.” The Cat’s yellow eyes narrowed, showing its disgust at the ungrateful young girl. “Now, will you please tell me why you did that?” she insisted. “And can you please tell me what is going on, for I am now finding it hard to see anything at all.” Fumbling about with her outstretched hands, Alice searched for the Cat.

Waving a paw in front of Alice’s face (she was totally oblivious to it), the Cat realised that she was blind. And although he was a cat, and quite capable of being hard and cruel whenever it suited, he was also a kindred spirit far from home, so taking her by the hand, he told Alice that the sleigh had just landed, and offered to lead her to it.

Although she was blind, Alice had no idea that she was, thinking the heavily falling snow being the reason she could see. She said, “Thank you, Cat, I don’t know what would have happened if you had not been here to guide me through all this snow with your excellent eyesight.” Guiding her towards the sleigh, the Cat remained silent.

“Well, what have we got here?” asked Father Christmas when he saw Alice and the Cat emerging from the whiteout.

“Is that really you, Father Christmas?” Alice asked. “This snowstorm is so terribly heavy I cannot see a thing, and if it were not for the Cat helping me I might be lost somewhere deep within it.”

Laughing amicably, the old man took hold of Alice and lifted her into his sleigh. As the Cat jumped in beside her, Father Christmas tucked them warmly into the bench seat. Then grabbing hold of the reins, he shouted, “Rarr,” rarr.” And with that, the sky vehicle sped fast along the icy cold surface, rising into the snowy sky and disappearing far over the horizon.

CONTD

 

 

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Alice in Wonderland Christmas Story

Alice in Wonderland Christmas Story

Chapter Six

Off With Her head!

 

“OFF WITH HER HEAD!”

Awakening with a start, Alice mumbled, “What, what was that? Did someone say something?”

“I said off with your head!” the Queen of Hearts roared at her. Looking about her royal self, she said, “Where is that executioner when you have need of him? Off with his head!”

Although suffering the Queen’s icy cold glare, Alice tried to be as polite as she might possibly be, considering the circumstances. “Excuse me, please,” she said, “is it really you? And if so, is this your seat?” Uncharacteristically silent, the Queen eyed Alice most suspiciously. Alice, however, pressed her further. “If it really is you, the Queen of Hearts – your majesty – I am delighted to meet you again, and I am most frightfully sorry for having fallen asleep in your chair. It is your chair, isn’t it?” she asked, and all of this in the one long breath. Taking another deep breath, trying to explain further, Alice said, “Unfortunately, since my arrival here, at the top of the world, if that is where I really am, I have been overtaken by these sudden spells of acute tiredness…”

“Where is the King?” the Queen asked, changing the subject from her chair, and why Alice was sitting upon it, to her missing husband, without as much as a by your leave.

Stepping away from the chair (Alice had no intention of being the target of the Queen’s rage for a second longer than was absolutely necessary), she replied, “I have only just arrived in this house, but if it pleases you, m’am, I will help you to find him.”

“If it pleases me?” the Queen roared, eying Alice with even greater suspicion than before. “It will please me if you stop assuming that you know what I want before even I do!”

“I was only trying to…”

“Off with her head!” the Queen shouted again, weaving between the wardrobes, tables, tallboys and presses, hoping to find the missing executioner, there.

“Please will you stop that!” said Alice in as firm a tone as she dared, considering it was a queen she was addressing.

The Queen’s jaw dropped in sheer disbelief that anyone might dare to address her in such a wanton manner. And she was just about to repeat her call for the beheading of Alice, when the King stepped out from one of the wardrobes.

Seeing her husband, the Queen cheered up considerably, and calling Alice to come closer, she said, “Thank you, my child, for having found my King.”

“B, but,” Alice spluttered, trying to explain that the King’s appearance had been nothing to do with her.

“I will hear no more on the matter,” the Queen ordered, returning to her usual gruff manner. Then stepping up to her chair (it was actually her throne), she sat upon it and bade her husband to do likewise.

Although Alice thought it most peculiar for the King to have been inside one of the wardrobes, the Queen appeared to see nothing unusual with it, so following her example Alice said nothing about it, either. Holding her tongue, Alice waited to see what the outspoken monarch might do next.

“The top of the world,” said the Queen, without the slightest trace of emotion in her voice.

“I beg your pardon, ma’m,” Alice replied, again in her politest tone of voice (you see, she wanted to keep the Queen onside, thinking her far better a friend than a foe).

“You said you were still not convinced that you were really on the top of the world, child.”

“That is most true, your majesty,” said Alice, baring her fears to the Queen sitting so proudly before her.  “You see,” Alice continued, “I do so want to believe that I am on the top of the world, but whenever I take something for granted, it changes – like being here with you and the King, in this room, or house or whatever it happens to be – that makes me think I am somewhere else, or dreaming. It’s all so terribly confusing,” Alice sighed.

After studying Alice’s face in minute detail, the Queen leant over to the King and whispered something into his ear, then returning her attention to Alice, she said, “We have discussed this problem of yours, and have decided that you are taking far too many things for granted.”

Speaking for the first time, the King said, “Yes, the Queen is right, you are taking far too many things for granted, this night.”

“But it’s not night,” Alice spluttered. “And why are you speaking in rhyme?”

The king, however, would have none of her questions, and he continued, “How do you think Wonderland might be, if the executioner took the Queen’s orders for granted – Can’t you see?”

“I don’t know,” said Alice, watching the Queen for any sign that she might disapprove of the conversation, wondering where it might actually be going, and also feeling almost as confused as the King and Queen seemingly were.

“I can help you, to understand – this is true,” said the King, standing up and strolling across to one of the wardrobes, which he duly opened.

Alice watched in silence as the King opened the door, stepped into the wardrobe and closed it behind him.

Once again, the Queen appeared to see nothing unusual with the King’s actions. Indeed, she was now so relaxed she began singing a song. Rubbing her hands along the gold painted armrests of her throne, she sang:

“If you take things for granted, be they right or they wrong,

You will surely get into a pickle before very long.

So listen to my words as I sing you this song

And we’ll all get by swimmingly, am I right or am I wrong?”

Despite feeling quite frustrated by the King and Queen’s eccentric behaviour, Alice held her temper and her ground, then following the King, she stepped up to the wardrobe and knocked on its door.

From within the wardrobe, and without a hint of a rhyme in his voice, the King asked “Yes?”

“It’s me, you wanted to show me something,” said Alice.

“Me – who is me?” he asked, surprised that he was having a visitor at all.

“Alice,” said Alice, tapping her foot on the floor, in growing frustration at the King’s increasingly erratic behaviour.

Opening the door, the King looked out from the wardrobe and saw Alice. “Ah, it’s young Alice,” he said. “What an unexpected surprise!” Opening the door fully, he said, “Please do come in…” Before accepting the King’s invitation, Alice tried to see past him, into the wardrobe’s mysterious interior, in case anything dangerous might be lurking there, but she was unable to see anything more threatening than a shadow or two. So stepping up, she accepted the King’s invitation and, for the time being at least, left her concerns over his unusual behaviour, outside.

“Shoes off, first,” the King ordered, scolding Alice for having taken for granted that she could enter with them on.

After slipping off her shoes, Alice placed them to one side of the entrance, and then squeezing past the King’s rotund body, she stepped cautiously into the wardrobe.

Once inside, Alice was pleasantly surprised by what she found.  “This is so nice,” she said, as she continued her inspection of the surprisingly roomy interior.

“I designed it myself,” said the King, walking on ahead of her, lifting an arm, here and there, to show off a painting, a candelabra or some other such item that he was particularly proud of.

“How were you able to find so much room inside an old wardrobe?” Alice asked, as she came upon an exquisitely carved chaise longue.  Sitting upon it, to see if it was as comfortable as it looked, Alice sank deep into its soft upholstery.

“That’s one of my favourite pieces of furniture,” said the King, sitting next to Alice, running his hand along the rich, red and gold fabric.

Wondering why the King would want to have such a splendid interior to a common old wardrobe, Alice said, “This wardrobe is as good as a palace.”

“It is a palace,” the King replied quite matter-of-factly. “And so are all the others – that’s why we need so much room inside them…”

“Others – what others?”

“All the other wardrobes the Queen and I own, of course. You saw them outside.”

“This palace is undeniably nice,” said Alice, feeling increasing confused by the concept of palaces within wardrobes, “but don’t you have a real one, anymore?”

“We do – in Wonderland – you know that,” said the King, giving Alice a look as peculiar as the one the White Rabbit had given, when she had asked if she was in Wonderland. Temporarily at a loss for words, Alice said nothing.  Seeing how confused she still was, the King, trying to clarify the matter further, said, “These wardrobes are our Travelling Palaces – now do you understand?”

“If I am to be perfectly honest with you,” Alice replied, “No, I do not.” Shaking her head in bewilderment, Alice struggled, trying to understand the need for one Travelling Palace, let alone so many.

“Ah,” said the King, “you are wondering why we have so many of them, aren’t you?”

Alice nodded.

“That’s easy,” he said, happy that he had finally got to the bottom of Alice’s quandary. “They are spares!”

“Spares?”

“Yes,” he said adamantly. “You never know when you might misplace a palace or two – do you?”

“If I owned some, perhaps I might find it possible to mislay a palace or two,” said Alice, trying to understand the logic of the King’s argument. “But considering the fact that I don’t even own one, I am finding it difficult to understand how it might feel. I am sorry.”

With no hesitation, the King said, “It’s yours,” and with that he handed Alice a brass key.

“Mine? What’s mine?”

“The palace, this Travelling Palace, that is,” the King said. “You can have it. It’s yours. We really have far too many of them, anyhow.”

Looking at the key, Alice asked, “What do I need this for?”

“To lock it, of course, you never know when someone might want to steal it. Why, only last week I had two palaces stolen from right under my nose… Do you think it might be that dreadful Knave of Hearts, again?”

Having no intention of getting involved in another trial, the last one having tested her patience to the limit, Alice steered the conversation away from the alleged theft, saying, “Thank you so very much for this Travelling Palace, I will always treasure it.” Then, accepting the key, she slipped it into her apron pocket.

“I must be on my way,” said the King.

“Oh, must you leave so soon,” said Alice, upset that her first guest was leaving so abruptly. “I had taken for granted that you would be staying for tea…”

On those words, looking deep into Alice’s eyes, the King smiled.  And she then understood the lesson he had invited her into the wardrobe, to learn. “I have been taking far too many things for granted, haven’t I?” she declared. “I can see that, now.” Then opening the door, Alice laughed, saying, “Come on, let’s see how the Queen is getting on with her song…”

Stepping out of the wardrobe, Alice picked up her shoes and walked away from her Travelling Palace without giving it a backward glance.

“Don’t forget to lock it,” said the King, pointing to Alice’s apron pocket, and her key.

Laughing, she replied, “If I lock it, I shall be taking it for granted that someone wants to steal it, so I won’t. And do you know, your majesty, what I am thinking of?”

The King shrugged his shoulders.

“I am thinking that I must surely be on the top of the world, that I must not take my search for the White Rabbit for granted, and after that anything is possible. Oh, King, you are so clever.”

Embarrassed by the unexpected compliment, the King turned redder than he already was.

“Come on,” said Alice, “I think the Queen is nearing the end of her song.” And she was, the Queen of Hearts though still singing contentedly, was beginning the twenty-third and final verse. The song finished thus…

 

“So don’t take for granted the slightest thing you see,

And your life will run smoother; your life will feel so free.

So listen to my words now as I sing you this song

And we’ll all get by so swimmingly, am I right or am I wrong?”

 

After the Queen had finished singing, Alice and the King gave her a tremendous round of applause. While she at first appeared quite overcome by the unexpected praise, the Queen all too soon returned to her usual state of mind, and she shouted, “You missed most of my song – Off with your heads!”

“See,” said the King. “We can’t take for granted that she really means that, now, can we?”

“I hope not,” said Alice, “I certainly hope not.”

Having already forgotten the lesson of her song, the Queen shouted, “Off with your heads – Where is that executioner when you have need of him?”

CONTD

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