Another little stage-friend of Lewis Carroll’s was Miss Vera Beringer, the “Little Lord Fauntleroy,” whose acting delighted all theatre-goers eight or nine years ago.  Once, when she was spending a holiday in the Isle of Man, he sent her the following lines:—­

        There was a young lady of station,
        “I love man” was her sole exclamation;
          But when men cried, “You flatter,”
          She replied, “Oh! no matter,
        Isle of Man is the true explanation.”

Many of his friendships with children began in a railway carriage, for he always took about with him a stock of puzzles when he travelled, to amuse any little companions whom chance might send him.  Once he was in a carriage with a lady and her little daughter, both complete strangers to him.  The child was reading “Alice in Wonderland,” and when she put her book down, he began talking to her about it.  The mother soon joined in the conversation, of course without the least idea who the stranger was with whom she was talking.  “Isn’t it sad,” she said, “about poor Mr. Lewis Carroll?  He’s gone mad, you know.”  “Indeed,” replied Mr. Dodgson, “I had never heard that.”  “Oh, I assure you it is quite true,” the lady answered.  “I have it on the best authority.”  Before Mr. Dodgson parted with her, he obtained her leave to send a present to the little girl, and a few days afterwards she received a copy of “Through the Looking-Glass,” inscribed with her name, and “From the Author, in memory of a pleasant journey.”

When he gave books to children, he very often wrote acrostics on their names on the fly-leaf.  One of the prettiest was inscribed in a copy of Miss Yonge’s “Little Lucy’s Wonderful Globe,” which he gave to Miss Ruth Dymes:—­

        R ound the wondrous globe I wander wild,
        U p and down-hill—­Age succeeds to youth—­
        T oiling all in vain to find a child
        H alf so loving, half so dear as Ruth.

In another book, given to her sister Margaret, he wrote:—­

        M aidens, if a maid you meet
        A lways free from pout and pet,
        R eady smile and temper sweet,
        G reet my little Margaret. 
        A nd if loved by all she be
        R ightly, not a pampered pet,
        E asily you then may see
       ’Tis my little Margaret.

Here are two letters to children, the one interesting as a specimen of pure nonsense of the sort which children always like, the other as showing his dislike of being praised.  The first was written to Miss Gertrude Atkinson, daughter of an old College friend, but otherwise unknown to Lewis Carroll except by her photograph:—­