I look into the faces of the peopl… The glad ones and the sad ones, an… And I wonder why the sorrow or th… But the pale and weary faces are t… I saw a face this morning, and tim…

WHEN the dressmaker comes I am t… For they don’t want me anywhere ha… At seven in the morning they send… With:' Don’t you come back till t… She’ll be here for a week, and we’…

For all the beauties of the day, The innocence of childhood’s play, For health and strength and laught… Dear Lord, our thanks we now repe… For this our daily gift of food

Show the flag and let it wave As a symbol of the brave Let it float upon the breeze As a sign for each who sees That beneath it, where it rides,

It’s funny 'bout a feller’s hat– He can’t remember where it’s at, Or where he took it off, or when, The time he’s wantin’ it again. He knows just where he leaves his…

Sometimes at the table, when He gets misbehavin’, then Mother calls across to me: ‘Look at him, now! Don’t you see What he’s doin’, sprawlin.' there!

I wish I was a poet like the men… The poems that we have to learn on… I’d write of things that children… An’ when the kids recited them the… If I’d been born a Whittier, inst…

Let every day be Mother’s Day! Make roses grow along her way And beauty everywhere. Oh, never let her eyes be wet With tears of sorrow or regret,

Bit of a priest and a bit of sailo… Bit of a doctor and bit of a tailo… Bit of a lawyer, and bit of detect… Bit of a judge, for his work is co… Cheering the living and soothing t…

There’s a little chap at our house… Keeps the front lawn looking tidy… Doesn’t leave his little wagon, wh… On the sidewalk as he used to; now… When we call him in to supper, we…

I WAS somewhere off in Europe sp… Owned a yacht like J. P. Morgan’… I was entertaining princes, dukes… ’It’s the telephone that’s ringing… And I wandered down the stairway,…

‘€˜TIS friendship’s test to guard… Of him you love from all attack, As you are to his face, the same To be when you’re behind his back. Now good old loyal Jimmy Green,

The roads of happiness are not The selfish roads of pleasure seek… Where cheeks are flushed with hast… And none has time for kindly speak… But they’re the roads where lovers…

WHAT would be the use of singing… If there was no little woman near… What would be the use of righting… If a little woman didn’t cease to… What would be the use of getting r…

AIRY, fairy Lillian, What a naughty thing to do, By noon had read a Laura Libbey paper novel through. By four o’clock another