I don’t want Christmas season to end, because it’s the only time I can legitimately indulge in on particular addiction: glitter.
–Eloisa James, Paris in Love
Flummoxed by what the White Rabbit had said, Alice said, “I bet you are mad!”
“That all depends,” he rather strangely replied.
“It all depends on what?” she asked, agog at how odd he could be.
“On whether you mean mad or mad.”
“That’s silly,” said Alice. “They mean the same thing.”
“If you were mad number one,” the Rabbit explained, “and someone happened to tell you that you were mad number two, you might be very mad indeed at so fundamental a mistake.”
“But I’m not mad!” she insisted.
“How do you know,” asked the Rabbi, “when you can’t tell the difference between mad number one and mad number two, I might ask?”
“I just know that I’m not mad!” Alice insisted. Informing him that another door had appeared, she awaited his response.
The Rabbit tried to open the door but he was unable to do so.
“Might I try?” Alice asked.
The Rabbit said nothing, but his pink, beady eyes watched her intently.
The door opened easily for Alice. “Could a mad person have done that?” she asked. Stepping through, she fell into a hole on the far side.
“No, they mightn’t,” he replied. “But would they have fallen down there?” Then, jumping into the hole, he followed Alice.
Is it Christmas or Xmas, that’s what I say,
Beit Christmas or Xmas; it’s such a wonderful day,
With pressies and drinkies and all of that stuff,
Christmas or Xmas doesn’t bother me much.
Twas a few days days before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was ready, not even a mouse,
There were no stockings by the chimney ever so bare,
And no thoughts that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were outside, not snug in their beds,
No visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
Mamma lost her ‘kerchief, and I also in my cap,
Our brains were not ready for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to the window to see what was the matter.
Gazing out the window I knew in a flash,
It was the spirit of Austin Princess; it’s a fact.
TO BE CONTINUED?