And This Is The Eternal

My Dear Young Lady, Crime, Like Death, Is Not Confined To The Old And Withered Alone. The Youngest And Fairest Are Too Often Its Chosen Victims.

Their Demeanor Is Invariably Morose, Sullen, Clownish And Repulsive. I Should Think There Is Not, On The Face Of The Earth, A People So Entirely Destitute Of Humor, Vivacity, Or The Capacity For Enjoyment.

All I Would Say Is, That I Can Go Abroad Without Your Family Coming Forward To Favour Me, - In Short, With A Parting Shove Of Their Cold Shoulders; And That, Upon The Whole, I Would Rather Leave England With Such Impetus As I Possess, Than Derive Any Acceleration Of It From That Quarter.

Make Them Laugh, Make Them Cry, Make Them Wait.

Be Natural My Children. For The Writer That Is Natural Has Fulfilled All The Rules Of Art.