Are You Thankful For Not Being Young?'

-why Don't You Cry Again, You Little Wretch? -because I'll Never Cry For You Again.

You Are Always Training Yourself To Be, Mind And Body, As Clear As Crystal, And You Always Are, And Never Change; Whereas I Am A Muddy, Solitary, Moping Weed.

I Feel An Earnest And Humble Desire, And Shall Do Till I Die, To Increase The Stock Of Harmless Cheerfulness.

And What An Example Of The Power Of Dress Young Oliver Twist Was! Wrapped In The Blanket Which Had Hitherto Formed His Only Covering, He Might Have Been The Child Of A Nobleman Or A Beggar;—it Would Have Been Hard For The Haughtiest Stranger To Have Fixed His Station In Society. But Now He Was Enveloped In The Old Calico Robes, That Had Grown Yellow In The Same Service; He Was Badged And Ticketed, And Fell Into His Place At Once—a Parish Child—the Orphan Of A Workhouse—the Humble, Half-starved Drudge—to Be Cuffed And Buffeted Through The World, Despised By All, And Pitied By None.

Ah, Miss Harriet, It Would Do Us No Harm To Remember Oftener Than We Do, That Vices Are Sometimes Only Virtues Carried To Excess!