Fan The Sinking Flame Of Hilarity With

Old Mr. Rarx Was Not A Pleasant Man To Look At, Nor Yet To Talk To, Or To Be With, For No One Could Help Seeing That He Was A Sordid And Selfish Character, And That He Had Warped Further And Further Out Of The Straight With Time.

To Close The Eyes, And Give A Seemly Comfort To The Apparel Of The Dead, Is Poverty's Holiest Touch Of Nature.

For Not An Orphan In The Wide World Can Be So Deserted As The Child Who Is An Outcast From A Living Parent's Love.

We Part With Tender Relations Stretching Far Behind Us, That Never Can Be Exactly Renewed, And With Others Dawning - Yet Before Us.

What Are The Odds So Long As The Fire Of The Soul Is Kindled At The Taper Of Conviviality, And The Wing Of Friendship Never Molts A Feather?