Me Wretched! Let Me Curr To Quercine

Where We Love Is Home - Home That Our Feet May Leave, But Not Our Hearts.

We Call Those Poets Who Are First To Mark, Through Earth's Dull Mist The Coming Of The Dawn, Who See In Twilight's Gloom The First Pale Spark, While Others Only Note That Day Is Gone.

No Families Take So Little Medicine As Those Of Doctors, Except Those Of Apothecaries.

I Would Never Use A Long Word, Even, Where A Short One Would Answer The Purpose.

The Year Is Getting To Feel Rich, For His Golden Fruits Are Ripening Fast, And He Has A Large Balance In The Barns, Which Are His Banks. The Members Of His Family Have Found Out That He Is Well To Do In The World. September Is Dressing Herself In Show Of Dahlias And Splendid Marigolds And Starry Zinnias. October, The Extravagant Sister, Has Ordered An Immense Amount Of The Most Gorgeous Forest Tapestry For Her Grand Reception.