Today's Stichomancy for Peter Sellers

They ate their whack and they drank their fill, And I think the rations has made them ill, For half my comp'ny's lying still Where the Widow give the party. "How did you get away -- away, Johnnie, Johnnie?" On the broad o' my back at the end o' the day, Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha! I comed away like a bleedin' toff, For I got four niggers to carry me off,

Verses 1889-1896

"Good!" cried D'Artagnan, "I will be there ten minutes before twelve." And he set off running as if the devil possessed him, hoping that he might yet find the stranger, whose slow pace could not have carried him far.

But at the street gate, Porthos was talking with the soldier on guard. Between the two talkers there was just enough room for a man to pass. D'Artagnan thought it would suffice for him, and he sprang forward like a dart between them. But D'Artagnan had reckoned without the wind. As he was about to pass, the wind blew out Porthos's long cloak, and D'Artagnan rushed straight into the middle of it. Without doubt, Porthos had reasons for

The Three Musketeers

and went to London. It took us two months to get there. My mother was ill in England, and expecting me. Paz and I took care of her till her death, which the Polish troubles hastened. Then we left London and came to France. Men who go through such adversities become like brothers. When I reached Paris, at twenty-two years of age, and found I had an income of over sixty thousand francs a year, without counting the proceeds of the diamonds and the pictures sold by my mother, I wanted to secure the future of my dear Paz before I launched into dissipation. I had often noticed the sadness in his eyes--sometimes tears were in them. I had had good reason to understand his soul, which is noble, grand, and generous to the core. I thought he might