The Burden Of The Incommunicable.

Flowers... That Are So Pathetic In Their Beauty, Frail As The Clouds, And In Their Coloring As Gorgeous As The Heavens, Had Through Thousands Of Years Been The Heritage Of Children - Honored As The Jewelry Of God Only By Them - When Suddenly The Voice Of Christianity, Counter-signing The Voice Of Infancy, Raised Them To A Grandeur Transcending The Hebrew Throne, Although Founded By God Himself, And Pronounced Solomon In All His Glory Not To Be Arrayed Like One Of These.

Flowers That Are So Pathetic In Their Beauty, Frail As The Clouds, And In Their Coloring As Gorgeous As The Heavens, Had Through Thousands Of Years Been The Heritage Of Children - Honored As The Jewelry Of God.

Often One's Dear Friend Talks Something Which One Scruples To Call Rigmarole.

The Public Is A Bad Guesser.

The Peace Of Nature And Of The Innocent Creatures Of God Seems To Be Secure And Deep, Only So Long As The Presence Of Man And His Restless And Unquiet Spirit Are Not There To Trouble Its Sanctity.