She, and I, and Towser, and Charles, and the Prince of Wales--and three of us are really alive; And four of us can speak, and I'm sure the Prince of Wales is wonderful for his size; For his things (at least he's only got one thing) take off and on, and, though he's nothing but wood, he's got real glass eyes. And perhaps in three birthdays more there may be as many of us as the Smiths, for five and three make eight; I shall be seven years old then (as old as Joe), but I don't like to think too much of it, it's so long to wait. And after all I don't know that I want any more of us: I think I'd rather my sister had a chair Like mine; and the next year I should like a collar for Towser if it wouldn't rub off his hair. And it would be very nice if the Prince of Wales could be dressed like a Field-marshal, for he's got nothing on his legs; And Cinderella's beautifully dressed, and Towser looks quite as if he'd got a fur coat on when he begs. Joe says it's perfectly absurd, and that I can't take a Pomeranian in earnest for my brother; But I don't think he really and truly knows how much Towser and I love each other. I didn't like his saying, "Well, there's one thing about your lot,--you can always have your own way." And then he says, "You can't possibly have fun with four people when you have to pretend what they say." But, whatever he says, I don't believe I shall ever enjoy a tea-party more than the one that we had on that day. [Illustration] PAPA POODLE.