If, Of All Words Of Tongue And

But Still When The Mists Of Doubt Prevail, And We Lie Becalmed By The Shores Of Age, We Hear From The Misty Troubled Shore The Voce Of Children Gone Before. Drawing The Soul To Its Anchorage.

Don't Be Too Quickto Break Bad Habits: Better Stick,like The Mission Folk, To Your Arsenic.

Which I Wish To Remark-- And My Language Is Plain,-- That For Ways That Are Dark And For Tricks That Are Vain, The Heathen Chinee Is Peculiar.

Perhaps There Is No Gift Of Nature That Requires As Little Exertion On The Part Of The Owner As Personal Beauty. I Am Not Certain But That It Is This Very Absence Of Effort Which Excites Our Admiration.

Love Differs From All The Other Contagious Diseases: The Last Time A Man Is Exposed To It, He Takes It Most Readily, And Has It The Worst!