Do Not Do An Immoral Thing For

There Was Now A Distinct Manifestation Of Morning In The Air, And Presently The Bleared White Visage Of A Sunless Winter Day Emerged Like A Dead-born Child.

You Could Sometimes See Her Twelfth Year In Her Cheeks, Or Her Ninth Sparkling From Her Eyes; And Even Her Fifth Would Flit Over The Curves Of Her Mouth Now And Then.

Yes; Quaint And Curious War Is! You Shoot A Fellow Down You'd Treat If Met Where Any Bar Is, Or Help To Half-a-crown.

I Have Felt Lately, More And More, That My Present Way Of Living Is Bad In Every Respect.

Let Truth Be Told - Women Do As A Rule Live Through Such Humiliations, And Regain Their Spirits, And Again Look About Them With An Interested Eye. While There's Life There's Hope Is A Connviction Not So Entirely Unknown To The "betrayed" As Some Amiable Theorists Would Have Us Believe.