I’d not complain of Sister Jane,… Combining with rare comeliness dis… Nay, I’ll admit it were most fit… She’d crave a change from parlor l… And that, eschewing needlework and…

As beats the sun from mountain cre… With 'pretty, pretty’, Cometh the partridge from her nest… The flowers threw kisses sweet to… (For all the flowers that bloomed…

Our Father who art in heaven, hal… Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be don… Give us this day our daily bread,… As we our earthly debts forgive—by… When tempted or by evil vexed, res…

Through sleet and fogs to the sali… Where the herring fish meanders, An army sped, and then, 't is said… Swore terribly in Flanders: “————!”

The image of the moon at night All trembling in the ocean lies, But she, with calm and steadfast l… Moves proudly through the radiant… How like the tranquil moon thou ar…

I hear Thy voice, dear Lord; I hear it by the stormy sea When winter nights are black and w… And when, affright, I call to The… It calms my fears and whispers me,

When Jim and Bill and I were boy… How gayly did we use to hail the c… Our sleds, fresh painted red and w… Seemed to respond right briskly to… As we dragged them up the slippery…

HORACE When you were mine in auld lang sy… And when none else your charms mig… I’ll not deny, Fair nymph, that I

A tortuous double iron track; a st… A locomotive, tender, tanks; a coa… Some postal cars, and baggage, too… With buffers, duffers, switches, a… This is the Orient’s novel pride,…

All day long they come and go— Pittypat and Tippytoe; Footprints up and down the hall, Playthings scattered on the floor, Finger-marks along the wall,

Lie in my arms, Ailsie, my bairn,… Lie in my arms and dinna greit; Long time been past syn I kenned… But my harte been allwais the same… Ailsie, I colde not say you ill,

If I were Francois Villon and Fr… What would it matter to me how the… _He_ would in sweaty anguish toil… And still not keep the prowling, g… But, with my valiant bottle and my…

Good old days—dear old days When my heart beat high and bold— When the things of earth seemed fu… And the future a haze of gold! Oh, merry was I that winter night…

When our babe he goeth walking in… Around his tinkling feet the sunbe… The posies they are good to him, And bow them as they should to him… As fareth he upon his kingly way;

In Mrs. Potter’s latest play The costuming is fine; Her waist is made decollete— Her skirt is new design.