And then we shall have changed healths. I wonder how you'll like mine! Oh, Gertrude, I wish you wouldn't talk such nonsense!...

My dear Gertrude,--This really will _not_ do, you know, sending one more kiss every time by post: the parcel gets so heavy it is quite expensive. When the postman brought in the last letter, he looked quite grave. "Two pounds to pay, sir!" he said. "_Extra weight_, sir!" (I think he cheats a little, by the way. He often makes me pay two _pounds_, when I think it should be _pence_). "Oh, if you please, Mr. Postman!" I said, going down gracefully on one knee (I wish you could see me go down on one knee to a postman--it's a very pretty sight), "do excuse me just this once! It's only from a little girl!"

The Life and Letters of Lewis Carroll — Part 176

"Only from a little girl!" he growled. "What are little girls made of?" "Sugar and spice," I began to say, "and all that's ni--" but he interrupted me. "No! I don't mean _that_. I mean, what's the good of little girls, when they send such heavy letters?" "Well, they're not _much_ good, certainly," I said, rather sadly.

The Life and Letters of Lewis Carroll — Part 176

"Mind you don't get any more such letters," he said, "at least, not from that particular little girl. _I know her well, and she's a regular bad one!"_ That's not true, is it? I don't believe he ever saw you, and you're not a bad one, are you? However, I promised him we would send each other _very_ few more letters--"Only two thousand four hundred and seventy, or so," I said. "Oh!" he said, "a little number like _that_ doesn't signify. What I meant is, you mustn't send _many_."

The Life and Letters of Lewis Carroll — Part 176

So you see we must keep count now, and when we get to two thousand four hundred and seventy, we mustn't write any more, unless the postman gives us leave.

I sometimes wish I was back on the shore at Sandown; don't you?

Why is a pig that has lost its tail like a little girl on the sea-shore?

Because it says, "I should like another tale, please!"

My dear Gertrude,--Explain to me how I am to enjoy Sandown without _you_. How can I walk on the beach alone? How can I sit all alone on those wooden steps? So you see, as I shan't be able to do without you, you will have to come. If Violet comes, I shall tell her to invite you to stay with her, and then I shall come over in the Heather-Bell and fetch you.