Now, high as our opinion is of our laureate's abilities and genius, we offer to lay six guineas of wirewove gilt to a pound of whitey-brown that not two hundred copies of this Eastern Tale are sold within the two years.

The worm crawls through the ground.

She goes to preschool, plays with dolls, and she loves to draw and paint. But Marla paints unlike any other four-year-old in the world.

It just did not ring true. This was the dark angel, Bond thought, the fallen angel, Satan himself, pouring honey into his ear—honey laced with poison. The temptation was too great.