"Oh, general, just look how Tou Tou has grown; her frock is nearly up to her knees!" "Do you think she _can_ have grown that much in four weeks ?" asks he, not contradictiously, but a little _doubtfully_, as Don Quixote may have asked the Princess Micomicona her reasons for landing at Ossime.

"But pray, madam," says he, "why did your ladyship land at Ossime, seeing that it is not a seaport town ?" "I suppose not," I reply, a little disappointed.

"I suppose that her frock must have run up in the washing." To this day I have not the faintest idea how I got out of the carriage.
My impression is that I _flew_ over the side with wings which came to my aid in that one emergency, and then for evermore disappeared.
I do not know _this_ time _where_ I begin, or whom I end with.

I seemed to be kissing them _all_ at once.

All their arms seem to be round _my_ neck, and mine round all of theirs at the same moment.