Tact Is After All A Kind Of

My Friends Plunged Into A Borderless Sea Of Reminiscences And Personal News.

This Was One Of Those Perfect New England Days In Late Summer Where The Spirit Of Autumn Takes A First Stealing Flight, Like A Spy, Through The Ripening Country-side, And, With Feigned Sympathy For Those Who Droop With August Heat, Puts Her Cool Cloak Of Bracing Air About Leaf And Flower And Human Shoulders.

Tain't Worthwhile To Wear A Day All Out Before It Comes.

So We Die Before Our Own Eyes; So We See Some Chapters Of Our Lives Come To Their Natural End.

I've Got 's Much Feelin' As The Next One, But When Folks Drives In Their Spiggits And Wants To Draw A Bucketful O' Compassion Every Day Right Straight Along, There Does Come Times When It Seems As If The Bar'l Was Getting Low.