Sweet Is The Memory Of Distant Friends!

All These, However, Were Mere Terrors Of The Night, Phantoms Of The Mind That Walk In Darkness; And Though He Had Seen Many Spectres In His Time, And Been More Than Once Beset By Satan In Divers Shapes, In His Lonely Pre-ambulations, Yet Daylight Put An End To All These Evils; And He Would Have Passed A Pleasent Life Of It, In Despite Of The Devil And All His Works, If His Path Had Not Been Crossed By A Being That Causes More Perplexity To Mortal Man Than Ghosts, Goblins, And The Whole Race Of Witches Put Together, And That Was - A Woman.

Christmas Is A Season For Kindling The Fire For Hospitality In The Hall, The Genial Flame Of Charity In The Heart.

Nothing Can Be More Touching Than To Behold A Soft And Tender Female, Who Had Been All Weakness And Dependence, And Alive To Every Trivial Roughness While Treading The Prosperous Paths Of Life, Suddenly Rising In Mental Force To Be The Comforter And Supporter Of Her Husband Under Misfortune, And Abiding With Unshrinking Firmness The Bitterest Blast Of Adversity.

The Almighty Dollar, That Great Object Of Universal Devotion.

To Occupy An Inch Of Dusty Shelf-to Have The Title Of Their Works Read Now And Then In A Future Age By Some Drowsy Churchman Or Casual Straggler, And In Another Age To Be Lost, Even To Remembrance. Such Is The Amount Of Boasted Immortality.