And another, "What is the latitude and longitude of Snooksville, in
Noman's County, Oregon, U.S.?"

And another, "What was the name of Mutius Scaevola's thirteenth cousin's
grandmother's maid's cat?"

And another, "How long would it take a school-inspector of average
activity to tumble head over heels from London to York?"

And another, "Can you tell me the name of a place that nobody ever heard
of, where nothing ever happened, in a country which has not been
discovered yet?"

And another, "Can you show me how to correct this hopelessly corrupt
passage of Graidiocolosyrtus Tabenniticus, on the cause why crocodiles
have no tongues?"

And so on, and so on, and so on, till one would have thought they were
all trying for tide-waiters' places, or cornetcies in the heavy
dragoons.

"And what good on earth will it do you if I did tell you?" quoth Tom.

Well, they didn't know that: all they knew was the examiner was coming.

Then Tom stumbled on the hugest and softest nimblecomequick turnip you
ever saw filling a hole in a crop of swedes, and it cried to him, "Can
you tell me anything at all about anything you like?"

"About what?" says Tom.

"About anything you like; for as fast as I learn things I forget them
again. So my mamma says that my intellect is not adapted for methodic
science, and says that I must go in for general information."

Tom told him that he did not know general information, nor any officers
in the army; only he had a friend once that went for a drummer: but he
could tell him a great many strange things which he had seen in his
travels.

So he told him prettily enough, while the poor turnip listened very
carefully; and the more he listened, the more he forgot, and the more
water ran out of him.

Tom thought he was crying: but it was only his poor brains running away,
from being worked so hard; and as Tom talked, the unhappy turnip
streamed down all over with juice, and split and shrank till nothing was
left of him but rind and water; whereat Tom ran away in a fright, for he
thought he might be taken up for killing the turnip.

But, on the contrary, the turnip's parents were highly delighted, and
considered him a saint and a martyr, and put up a long inscription over
his tomb about his wonderful talents, early development, and
unparalleled precocity. Were they not a foolish couple? But there was a
still more foolish couple next to them, who were beating a wretched
little radish, no bigg