A Woman's Pity Sometimes Makes Her Mad.

And That Dismal Cry Rose Slowly And Sank Slowly Through The Air, Full Of Spirit's Melancholy And Eternity's Despair; And They Heard The Words It Said,- "pan Is Dead! Great Pan Is Dead! Pan, Pan Is Dead!"

The World's Male Chivalry Has Perished Out, But Women Are Knights-errant To The Last; And, If Cervantes Had Been Greater Still, He Had Made His Don A Donna.

He's Just, Your Cousin, Ay, Abhorrently, He'd Wash His Hands In Blood, To Keep Them Clean.

Light Tomorrow With Today!

We Get No Good By Being Ungenerous, Even To A Book, And Calculating Profits--so Much Help By So Much Reading. It Is Rather When We Gloriously Forget Ourselves, And Plunge Soul-forward, Headlong, Into A Book's Profound, Impassioned For Its Beauty, And Salt Of Truth-- 'tis Then We Get The Right Good From A Book.