A Little Learning Is A

They Whirled Past The Dark Trees, As Feathers Would Be Swept Before A Hurricane. Houses, Gates, Churches, Hay-stacks, Objects Of Every Kind They Shot By, With A Velocity And Noise Like Roaring Waters Suddenly Let Loose. Still The Noise Of Pursuit Grew Louder, And Still My Uncle Could Hear The Young Lady Wildly Screaming, "faster! Faster!"

Stephen Blackpool Fall Into The Loneliest Of Lives, The Life Of Solitude Among A Familiar Crowd. The Stranger In The Land Who Looks Into Ten Thousand Faces For Some Answering Look And Never Finds It, Is In Cheering Society As Compared With Him Who Passes Ten Averted Faces Daily, That Were Once The Countenances Of Friends

No One Is Useless In This World Who Lightens The Burden Of It To Anyone Else.

The Sergeant Was Describing A Military Life. It Was All Drinking, He Said, Except That There Were Frequent Intervals Of Eating And Love Making.

Such Is Hope, Heaven's Own Gift To Struggling Mortals, Pervading, Like Some Subtle Essence From The Skies, All Things Both Good And Bad.