A lad called Barry came in and said, "What's that, ma'am?" 
        "Please call Ms. Daisy, Ms. Bluebell and Ms. Dandelion to go to the feast tonight," Ms. Poppy said when she was adjusting her hat, "and I'm going to go out."
        "Yes, ma'am."
        Ms. Poppy was a plump lady. She got to the front door and walked along Breezy Bridge. She usually walked by herself, but some time she would go out in a hansom. Now the hansom, strangely, is in the Garden of Garnet, named after Sir Quentin Garnet. But at the time Ms. Poppy walked along the Breezy Bridge, there is another woman in the hansom, and it is Mrs. Claudia Crocus, née Croesus.
        "I think I got the right way," Claudia said.

        I got downstairs through the out-of-the-question darkness. Far there was a row of windows. I looked through the first window and there was the back of the Monster How, the name of the cross of a dog and a bear. How seemed that he was still insterested in the foreign lannguage. I think he was asking what was that in the language was "till to-morrow and all is over". Then I looked through the second window. It was looked like a kitchen, where a roast chicken, a salami, an eggplant, pebbles and soup were prepared. Then a cook came in. I immediately disguised as a piece of curtain, but the colour did not match. 
        "Hey! Is it you, Iwred?" Then I knew that it was Geoff the chef. 
        "Oh, Geoffrey..." 
        "Call me Geoff." 
        "Okay, Geoff. What are you doing here?"
        " What can a fresh do in a chicken? Oh, sorry. What can a chef do in a kitchen?" 
        "Cooking, of course. But I don't think you are really cooking." I said suspiciously.
        "I'm talking to you!" Geoff said, "so I'm not cooking now!"
        "Okay. What are you doing?"
        "I'm eavesdropping." he whispered.
        "So you are not wearing squeaky shoes, do you?"
        "Yes. They would be suspicious if they can't hear Geoff the chef. They are bossy, you know."
        "Who is bossy?" I asked, "and why can't I hear your shoes?"
        "Because you're deaf."
        "Deaf?"
        "Or maybe... Oh, I dropped the soundy iron piece."
        "You better put it back on," I murmered.
        "What?"
        "What's that, tchef?" an old woman said.
        "Call me chef or Geoff, Madame Croach."
        "Where are you? Is the salami okay?"
        "Sure, Madame Croach," then he turned back to me and said, "You better go."
        I got to the third window, and there was something surprised me.

        If you got a crack on your monitor, it would be totally useless. But if you got a crack on your forehead, it would be extremely remarkable. And if you got it on the floor of the Room 726, it would utmostly useful, the degree of  utmost is far more than the utmost of the grey-headed boy being uxorious to someone. I glared at the crack, and dropped a handkerchief that was once belong to a emperor to it. Nothing happened. I dropped a vase, a master piece of oil-painting and a autobiography of Lisa Soy, but nothing occured, except a thought in my mind. 
        I ran to the biology loboratory and got a scorpion. You may wonder, What on earth were they doing with the scorpion in a splendid hotel? The answer is, they were making an observation of the reproduction. Though it is ridiculous but the world is full of ridiculousness. Hey, ridiculously ridicule the ridiculous ridicule to the ridiculousness, then you will be happy, and very absurd. 
        I threw the scorpion to the crack and the bookshelf near the far window slided open. This was abstruse, I thought there was outside the building through the wall. I got to the bookshelf, and found a secret passageway, which led to the right and down. I walked downstairs. And the darkness was out of the question.

        The pet bird, however, was not something you wish to see. It was a crow. As some people said, crows sign disaster, but it never concerned. Ms. Poppy's bird was a nice bird, as nice as Ms. Poppy. If you think Ms. Poppy was not very kind at all, then also you would dislike the bird. 
        The bird was standing on His master's left shoulder, nibbling she's finger, instead of  holding a poppy in his mouth. The Crow had a fair beak though I do not how a fair beak looks like. He has two wings and two eyes, which was similar to the buttons on the woman's hat. He seldom cried or crowed. He only made harsh sounds when and where a good dog would bark, for examples, when he see the treacherous man in a long-sleeves sweater and chequered coat, He would cry fiercely, and the sound was very horrible, terrible and frightful.

        If you are happening to find a book contains an encyclopedia about feathered beings or a survey of flying animals, then you must have chosen the wrong book. This is not a ornithological book in anyway. Indeed, there are just some bossy and fussy women.
        The first woman to be introduce is Ms. Poppy. Ms. Poppy was bossy, but not fussy. As you see (though you cannot see), Ms. Poppy was and is a kind and nice woman. And as you see (Still you cannot see), she did not concern anything of drugs, or this book would be call The Oriental Opium. The woman has a pet bird.