Death? Translated Into The Heavenly Tongue, That

To The Great Tree-loving Fraternity We Belong. We Love Trees With Universal And Unfeigned Love, And All Things That Do Grow Under Them Or Around Them - The Whole Leaf And Root Tribe. Not Alone When They Are In Their Glory, But In Whatever State They Are - In Leaf, Or Rimed With Frost, Or Powdered With Snow, Or Crystal-sheathed In Ice, Or In Severe Outline Stripped And Bare Against A November Sky - We Love Them.

I Know It Is More Agreeable To Walk Upon Carpets Than To Lie Upon Dungeon Floors, I Know It Is Pleasant To Have All The Comforts And Luxuries Of Civilization; But He Who Cares Only For These Things Is Worth No More Than A Butterfly, Contented And Thoughtless, Upon A Morning Flower; And Who Ever Thought Of Rearing A Tombstone To A Last Summer's Butterfly?

We Under No Circumstances Know The Appreciate Of Your Parent Till We Develop Into Dad And Mom Ourselves.

The Elms Of New England! They Are As Much A Part Of Her Beauty As The Columns Of The Parthenon Were The Glory Of Its Architecture.

A Coat That Is Not Used, The Moths Eat; And A Christian Who Is Hung Up So That He Shall Not Be Tempted-the Moths Eat Him; And They Have Poor Food At That.