No Man Knows What The

From Its Peaceful Bosom Spring None But Fond Regrets And Tender Recollections.

Small Minds Are Subdued By Misfortunes, Greater Minds Overcome Them.

All These, However, Were Mere Terrors Of The Night, Phantoms Of The Mind That Walk In Darkness; And Though He Had Seen Many Spectres In His Time, And Been More Than Once Beset By Satan In Divers Shapes, In His Lonely Pre-ambulations, Yet Daylight Put An End To All These Evils; And He Would Have Passed A Pleasent Life Of It, In Despite Of The Devil And All His Works, If His Path Had Not Been Crossed By A Being That Causes More Perplexity To Mortal Man Than Ghosts, Goblins, And The Whole Race Of Witches Put Together, And That Was - A Woman.

Surely Happiness Is Reflective, Like The Light Of Heaven; And Every Countenance, Bright With Smiles, And Glowing With Innocent Enjoyment, Is A Mirror Transmitting To Others The Rays Of A Supreme And Ever-shining Benevolence.

What Earnest Worker, With Hand And Brain For The Benefit Of His Fellowmen, Could Desire A More Pleasing Recognition Of His Usefulness Than The Monument Of A Tree, Ever Growing, Ever Blooming, And Ever Bearing Wholesome Fruit?