Where Jack Isn't Safe, Tom's In Danger.

Our Words Have Wings, But Fly Not Where We Would.

Blessed Is The Influence Of One True, Loving Human Soul On Another.

There Are Few Of Us That Are Not Rather Ashamed Of Our Sins And Follies As We Look Out On The Blessed Morning Sunlight, Which Comes To Us Like A Bright-winged Angel Beckoning Us To Quit The Old Path Of Vanity That Stretches Its Dreary Length Behind Us.

It Is, I Fear, But A Vain Show Of Fulfilling The Heathen Precept, ''know Thyself,'' And Too Often Leads To A Self- Estimate Which Will Subsist In The Absence Of That Fruit By Which Alone The Quality Of The Tree Is Made Evident.

Conscience Is Harder Than Our Enemies, Knows More, Accuses With More Nicety.