If You Are Foolish Enough To Be

(speaking Of The Cistercian Monks) A Grim Fraternity, Passing Grim Lives In That Sweet Spot, That God Had Made So Bright! Strange That Nature's Voices All Around Them--the Soft Singing Of The Waters, The Wisperings Of The River Grass, The Music Of The Rushing Wind--should Not Have Taught Them A Truer Meaning Of Life Than This. They Listened There, Through The Long Days, In Silence, Waiting For A Voice From Heaven; And All Day Long And Through The Solemn Night It Spoke To Them In Myriad Tones, And They Heard It Not.

I Like Cats.... When I Meet A Cat, I Say, "poor Pussy!" And Stoop Down And Tickle The Side Of Its Head; And The Cat Sticks Up Its Tail In A Rigid, Cast-iron Manner, Arches Its Back, And Wipes Its Nose Up Against My Trousers; And All Is Gentleness And Peace.

He Is Very Imprudent, A Dog; He Never Makes It His Business To Inquire Whether You Are In The Right Or The Wrong, Never Asks Whether You Are Rich Or Poor, Silly Or Wise, Sinner Or Saint. You Are His Pal. That Is Enough For Him.

It Is Easy Enough To Say That Poverty Is No Crime. No; If It Were Men Wouldn't Be Ashamed Of It. It Is A Blunder, Though, And Is Punished As Such. A Poor Man Is Despised The Whole World Over.

"not Sure," He Retorted; "you Call Yourself A Journalist, And Admit There Is A Subject Under Heaven Of Which You Are Not Sure!"