The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
The First Voice HE trilled a carol fresh and free,He laughed aloud for very glee:There came a breeze from off the sea: It passed athwart the glooming flat—It fanned his forehead as he sat—It lightly bore away his hat, All…
There are certain things—a spider, a ghost,The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three—That I hate, but the thing that I hate the mostIs a thing they call the SEA. Pour some salt water over the floor—Ugly I’m sure you’ll allow…
Lays of Mystery,Imagination, and Humor Number 1 I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls,And each damp thing that creeps and crawlsWent wobble-wobbl e on the walls. Faint odours of departed cheese,Blown on the dank, unwholesome breeze,Awoke the never ending sneeze.…
“——it was at the great concert given by theQueen of Hearts, and I had to sing `Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you’re at!’You know the song, perhaps?” “I’ve heard something like it,” said Alice. “It goes on,…
“Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail,“There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail.See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!They are waiting on the shingle—will you come and…
The ladye she stood at her lattice high,Wi’ her doggie at her feet;Thorough the lattice she can spyThe passers in the street, “There’s one that standeth at the door,And tirleth at the pin:Now speak and say, my popinjay,If I sall…
I’ll tell thee everything I can:There’s little to relate.I saw an aged aged man,A-sitting on a gate. ‘Who are you, aged man?’ I said.‘And how is it you live?’And his answer trickled through my head,Like water through a sieve.He said,…
I’ll tell thee everything I can;There’s little to relate.I saw an aged aged man,A-sitting on a gate.“Who are you, aged man?” I said,“And how is it you live?”And his answer trickled through my headLike water through a sieve. He said,…
I never loved a dear Gazelle -— Nor anything that cost me much:High prices profit those who sell; But why should I be fond of such? To glad me with his soft black eyeMy son comes trotting home from school;He’s…
When on the sandy shore I sit,Beside the salt sea-wave,And fall into a weeping fitBecause I dare not shave—A little whisper at my earEnquires the reason of my fear. I answer “If that ruffian JonesShould recognise me here,He’d bellow out…