It Is The Last Straw That Breaks

... When He Saw Her Sitting There All Alone, So Young, And Good, And Beautiful, And Kind To Him; And Heard Her Thrilling Voice, So Natural And Sweet, And Such A Golden Link Between Him And All His Life's Love And Happiness, Rising Out Of The Silence; He Turned His Face Away, And Hid His Tears.

My Hair Stands On End At The Cost And Charges Of These Boys. Why Was I Ever A Father! Why Was My Father Ever A Father!

You May Be An Undigested Bit Of Beef, A Blot Of Mustard, A Crumb Of Cheese, A Fragment Of Underdone Potato. There's More Of Gravy Than Of Grave About You, Whatever You Are!

Morning Drew On Apace. The Air Became More Sharp And Piercing, As Its First Dull Hue: The Death Of Night, Rather Than The Birth Of Day: Glimmered Faintly In The Sky. The Objects Which Had Looked Dim And Terrible In The Darkness, Grew More And More Defined, And Gradually Resolved Into Their Familiar Shapes. The Rain Came Down, Thick And Fast; And Pattered, Noisily, Among The Leafless Bushes.

I Was Always Treated As If I Had Insisted On Being Born, In Opposition To The Dictates Of Reason, Religion, And Morality, And Against The Dissuadinig Arguments Of My Best Friends.