"i Know Quite Enough Of Myself," Said

Remembrance, Like A Candle, Burns Brightest At Christmastime.

Of All The Ruinous And Desolate Places My Uncle Had Ever Beheld, This Was The Most So. It Looked As If It Had Once Been A Large House Of Entertainment; But The Roof Had Fallen In, In Many Places, And The Stairs Were Steep, Rugged, And Broken. There Was A Huge Fire-place In The Room Into Which They Walked, And The Chimney Was Blackened With Smoke; But No Warm Blaze Lighted It Up Now. The White Feathery Dust Of Burnt Wood Was Still Strewed Over The Hearth, But The Stove Was Cold, And All Was Dark And Gloomy.

... Waiter! Raw Beef-steak For The Gentleman's Eye,-nothing Like Raw Beef-steak For A Bruise, Sir; Cold Lamp-post Very Good, But Lamp-post Inconvenient-damned Odd Standing In The Open Street Half-an-hour, With Your Eye Against A Lamp.

"i Fear Your Kind And Open Communication, Which Has Rendered Me More Painfully Conscious Of My Own Defects, Has Not Improved Me," Sighed Kate.

The Dew Seemed To Sparkle More Brightly On The Green Leaves The Air To Rustle Among Them With A Sweeter Music And The Sky Itself To Look More Blue And Bright. Such Is The Influence Which The Condition Of Our Own Thoughts, Exercise, Even Over The Appearance Of External Objects.