Nurse Mary always took thread and a needle in her pocket; these were for the making of daisy-chains, and, oh! the wreaths we strung as we sat in the soft grass, with the dear old Broad Walk quite close, and when we raised our eyes the lovely vision of Merton College, with its covered walls of Virginian creeper! It all comes back to me so vividly, though it is now far away in the past years. And how delighted we were to see the well-known figure in his cap and gown coming, so swiftly, with his kind smile ready to welcome the "Ugly Duckling" sitting in the grass! I knew, as he sat beside me, that a fairy-tale book was hidden in his pocket, or that I should hear something nice--perhaps a new game or a puzzle--and he would gravely accept a tiny daisy bouquet for his coat with as much courtesy as if it had been the finest hot-house _boutonnière_. I was very proud when, between us, we had made a chain of cuckoo-flowers and daisy heads long enough to twine round my hat. These meadows and the walk along the wall were remarkable then for the quantity of snails of all kinds that, on fine days and damp days, came out to take the air, and to me they were objects of great dislike and horror. Mr. Dodgson so gently and patiently showed me how silly I was, how harmless the poor snails were, and told me so much about the shells they carried on their backs, and showed me how wonderfully they were made, that I soon got over the fright and made quite a collection of discarded shells; which collection finally took up its abode in a little crimson-paper trunk that Mr. Dodgson found at old Mrs. Green's toyshop and bought for me. About this time also father had added to my nursery literature "Ministering Children," "Sandford and Merton," and "Rosamund; or, The Purple Jar." All these were shown in great glee to my kind friend, who (as I knew he would) read to me from them. Two or three times I went fishing with him from the bank, near the Old Mill opposite Addison's Walk (Oxford), and he entered quite into my happiness when a small fish came wriggling up on the end of my crooked pin and line, just ready for the dinner of the little white kitten, "Lily," he had given me.