When The Wind Is Blowing And The

But I Am Sure That I Have Always Thought Of Christmas Time, When It Has Come Round...as A Good Time; A Kind, Forgiving, Charitable, Pleasant Time; The Only Time I Know Of, In The Long Calendar Of The Year, When Men And Women Seem By One Consent To Open Their Shut-up Hearts Freely.

Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, Or Death; - The Last, Much The Easiest To Bestow, O Guillotine!

The Jovial Party Broke Up Next Morning. Breakings-up Are Capital Things In Our School-days, But In After Life They Are Painful Enough. Death, Self-interest, And Fortune's Changes, Are Every Day Breaking Up Many A Happy Group, And Scattering Them Far And Wide; And The Boys And Girls Never Come Back Again.

I Thought It Very Touching To See These Two Women, Coarse And Shabby And Beaten, So United; To See What They Could Be To One Another; To See How They Felt For One Another, How The Heart Of Each To Each Was Softened By The Hard Trials Of Their Lives. I Think The Best Side Of Such People Is Almost Hidden From Us. What The Poor Are To The Poor Is Little Known, Excepting To Themselves And God.

He Went To Church, And Walked About The Streets, And Watched The People Hurrying To And Fro, And Patted Children On The Head, And Questioned Beggars, And Looked Down Into The Kitchens Of Houses, And Up To The Windows; And Found That Everything Could Yield Him Pleasure. He Had Never Dreamed That Any Walk — That Anything — Could Give Him So Much Happiness.