I Will Honor Christmas In My Heart,

An Evening Wind Uprose Too, And The Slighter Branches Cracked And Rattled As They Moved, In Skeleton Dances, To Its Moaning Music.

She's The Sort Of Woman Now,' Said Mould, . . . 'one Would Almost Feel Disposed To Bury For Nothing: And Do It Neatly, Too!

Man Is But Mortal: And There Is A Point Beyond Which Human Courage Cannot Extend. Mr. Pickwick Gazed Through His Spectacles For An Instant On The Advancing Mass, And Then Fairly Turned His Back And-we Will Not Say Fled; Firstly, Because It Is An Ignoble Term, And, Secondly, Because Mr. Pickwick's Figure Was By No Means Adapted For That Mode Of Retreat-he Trotted Away, At As Quick A Rate As His Legs Would Convey Him;.

She Forgot To Be Shy At The Moment, In Honestly Warning Him Away From The Sunken Wreck He Had A Dream Of Raising; And Looked At Him With Eyes Which Assuredly, In Association With Her Patient Face, Her Fragile Figure, Her Spare Dress, And The Wind And Rain, Did Not Turn Him From His Purpose Of Helping Her.

There Is Prodigious Strength In Sorrow And Despair.