Ride On! Ride On Over All Obstacles

We Know, Mr. Weller - We, Who Are Men Of The World - That A Good Uniform Must Work Its Way With The Women, Sooner Or Later.

I Was So Humiliated, Hurt, Spurned, Offended, Angry, Sorry--i Cannot Hit Upon The Right Name For The Smart--god Knows What Its Name Was--that Tears Started To My Eyes.

Loves And Cupids Took To Flight Afraid, And Martyrdom Had No Such Torment In Its Painted History Of Suffering.

"madam," Replied Mr. Micawber, "it Is My Intention To Register Such A Vow On The Virgin Page Of The Future."

Let The Tears Which Fell, And The Broken Words Which Were Exchanged In The Long Close Embrace Between The Orphans, Be Sacred. A Father, Sister, And Mother, Were Gained, And Lost, In That One Moment. Joy And Grief Were Mingled In The Cup; But There Were No Bitter Tears: For Even Grief Arose So Softened, And Clothed In Such Sweet And Tender Recollections, That It Became A Solemn Pleasure, And Lost All Character Of Pain.