Curses, Like Chickens, Come Home To Roost.

I Have No Wish For A Second Husband. I Had Enough Of The First. I Like To Have My Own Way To Lie Down Mistress, And Get Up Master.

Curses, Like Chickens, Come Home To Roost.

Ah, Hope! What Would Life Be, Stripped Of Thy Encouraging Smiles, That Teach Us To Look Behind The Dark Clouds Of Today, For The Golden Beams That Are To Gild The Morrow.

When Things Come To The Worse, They Generally Mend.

The Indian Is One Of Nature's Gentlemen--he Never Says Or Does A Rude Or Vulgar Thing. The Vicious, Uneducated Barbarians, Who Form The Surplus Of Overpopulous European Countries, Are Far Behind The Wild Man In Delicacy Of Feeling Or Natural Courtesy.