LIFE Life! I know not what thou art, But know that thou and I must part; And when, or how, or where we met Life! We've been long together, Through pleasant and through cloudy weather, 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; Then steal away, give little warning, choose thine own time: Say not "good-night," but in some brighter clime Bid me "good-morning." Mrs. A. L. Barbauld. LINCOLN'S HEART "You are wounded, my boy, and the field is your tent, And what can I do at the last for you?" "Yes, wounded am I, and my strength is spent Will you write me a letter and see me through?" And the tall man ruffled some papers there To write a letter in sun-dimmed air. "What now shall I sign it?" "Twill give her joy, Who wrote so kindly this letter for me." The bleeding lad, from the hand unknown The letter took. "What? A. Lincoln!' Not he? Will you take my hand-I'm all alone And see me through, since he you be?" And the Heart of the Nation in that retreat Held the little pulse till it ceased to beat. The sun through the trees like an oriel shone, Both closed their eyes: both hearts in prayer And he, the boy, still holding the hand The singing forests where sun-rifts burned. Hezekiah Butterworth. IF WE KNEW If we knew the cares and crosses If we knew the little losses, Sorely grievous day by day, Would we then so often chide him For the lack of thrift and gain Casting o'er his life a shadow, Leaving on his heart a stain. If we knew the silent story Quivering through the heart of pain, Let us reach into our bosoms MAKING AMENDS How Mark Twain Made a Visit in Sections Forest Street, the literary corner of Hartford, is a most friendly place. The fortunate members of that charmed circle hobnob together in a most friendly manner at all times and at all seasons. When Harriet Beecher Stowe was alive, Mark Twain, who lived near her, had a way of running in to converse with her and her daughter, often in a somewhat neglige costume, greatly to the distress of Mrs...Clemens. One morning, as he returned from the Stowes sans necktie, Mrs. Clemens met him at the door with the exclamation: "There, Sam, you have been over to the Stowes again without a necktie. It's really disgraceful the way you |