A Sinful Heart Makes Feeble Hand.

Oh, On That Day, That Wrathful Day, When Man To Judgment Wakes Front Clay, Be Thou, O Christ, The Sinner's Stay, Though Heaven And Earth Shall Pass Away.

Cats Are A Mysterious Kind Of Folk.

Will Future Ages Believe That Such Stupid Bigotry Ever Existed!

Jock, When Ye Hae Naething Else To Do, Ye May Be Aye Sticking In A Tree; It Will Be Growing, Jock, When Ye 're Sleeping.

Merrily, Merrily Goes The Bark On A Breeze From The Northward Free, So Shoots Through The Morning Sky The Lark, Or The Swan Through The Summer Sea.