Old Marley Was Dead As A Doornail...

Whether I Shall Turn Out To Be The Hero Of My Own Life, Or Whether That Station Will Be Held By Anybody Else, These Pages Must Show.

If The World Go Wrong, It Was, In Some Off-hand Manner, Never Meant To Go Right.

I Don't Quite Recollect How Many Tumblers Of Whiskey Toddy Each Man Drank After Supper; But This I Know, That About One O'clock In The Morning, The Baillie's Grown-up Son Became Insensible While Attempting The First Verse Of 'willie Brewed A Peck O' Maut'; And He Having Been, For Half An Hour Before, The Only Other Man Visible Above The Mahogany, It Occurred To My Uncle That It Was Almost Time To Think About Going.

He Wore A Sprinkling Of Powder Upon His Head, As If To Make Himself Look Benevolent; But If That Were His Purpose, He Would Perhaps Have Done Better To Powder His Countenance Also, For There Was Something In Its Very Wrinkles, And In His Cold Restless Eye, Which Seemed To Tell Of Cunning That Would Announce Itself In Spite Of Him.

The Aim Of Talk Should Be Like The Aim Of A Flying Arrow -- To Hit The Mark; But To This End There Must Be A Mark To Hit, That Is, There Must Be A Listener.