Early Morning Does Not Mince Words.

From Behind A Wooden Crate We Saw A Long Black-muzzled Nose Poking Round At Us. We Took Him Out-soft, Wobbly, Tearful; Set Him Down On His Four, As Yet Not Quite Simultaneous Legs, And Regarded Him. He Wandered A Little Round Our Legs, Neither Wagging His Tail Nor Licking At Our Hands; Then He Looked Up, And My Companion Said: "he's An Angel!"

Headlines Twice The Size Of The Events.

Society Is Built On Marriage ... Marriage And Its Consequences.

Early Morning Does Not Mince Words.

Looking Back On The Long-stretched-out Body Of One's Work, It Is Interesting To Mark The Endless Duel Fought Within A Man Between The Emotional And Critical Sides Of His Nature, First One, Then The Other, Getting The Upper Hand, And Too Seldom Fusing Till The Result Has The Mellowness Of Full Achievement. One Can Even Tell The Nature Of One's Readers, By Their Preference For The Work Which Reveals More Of This Side Than Of That.