Happy Is The Son Whose Faith In

The Humblest Tasks Get Beautified If Loving Hands Do Them.

But Please Hug And Kiss Me, Everyone, And Don't Mind My Dress, I Want A Great Many Crumples Of This Sort Put Into It Today.

I Do Like Men Who Come Out Frankly And Own That They Are Not Gods.

Your Father, Jo. He Never Loses Patience, Never Doubts Or Complains, But Always Hopes, And Works And Waits So Cheerfully That One Is Ashamed To Do Otherwise Before Him.

Conceit Spoils The Finest Genius.