Good-nature Is One Of The Richest Fruits

The Dog Is The God Of Frolic.

So We Fall Asleep In Jesus. We Have Played Long Enough At The Games Of Life, And At Last We Feel The Approach Of Death. We Are Tired Out, And We Lay Our Heads Back On The Bosom Of Christ, And Quietly Fall Asleep.

A Practical, Matter-of-fact Man Is Like A Wagon Without Springs: Every Single Pebble On The Road Jolts Him; But A Man With Imagination Has Springs That Break The Jar And Jolt.

A Man That Has Lost Moral Sense Is Like A Man In Battle With Both Of His Legs Shot Off: He Has Nothing To Stand On.

The Natural Term Of An Apple-pie Is But Twelve Hours. It Reaches Its Highest State About One Hour After It Comes From The Oven, And Just Before Its Natural Heat Has Quite Departed. But Every Hour Afterward Is A Declension. And After It Is One Day Old, It Is Thence-forward But The Ghastly Corpse Of Apple-pie.