Child! Do not throw this book about;
Refrain from the unholy pleasure
Of cutting all the pictures out!
Preserve it as your chiefest treasure. – Hilaire Belloc
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I shoot the Hippopotamus
With bullets made of platinum,
Because if I use leaden ones
His hide is sure to flatten em. – Hilaire Belloc
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Matilda told such dreadful lies,
It made one gasp and stretch ones eyes;
Her aunt, who from her earliest youth,
Had kept a strict regard for truth,
Attempted to believe Matilda:
The effort very nearly killed her. – Hilaire Belloc
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