It Is Hard Work To Control The

If There Is One Notion I Hate More Than Another, It Is That Of Marriage - I Mean Marriage In The Vulgar, Weak Sense, As A Mere Matter Of Sentiment.

'i Wish I Had Only Offered You A Sovereign Instead Of Ten Pounds. Give Me Back Nine Pounds, Jane; I’ve A Use For It.' 'and So Have I, Sir,' I Returned, Putting My Hands And My Purse Behind Me. 'i Could Not Spare The Money On Any Account.' 'little Niggard!' Said He, 'refusing Me A Pecuniary Request! Give Me Five Pounds, Jane.' 'not Five Shillings, Sir; Nor Five Pence.' 'just Let Me Look At The Cash.' 'no, Sir; You Are Not To Be Trusted.'

Even For Me Life Had Its Gleams Of Sunshine.

All My Heart Is Yours, Sir: It Belongs To You; And With You It Would Remain, Were Fate To Exile The Rest Of Me From Your Presence Forever.

The Eagerness Of A Listener Quickens The Tongue Of A Narrator.