Snowy Winter, A Plentiful Harvest.

Each Year One Vicious Habit Discarded, In Time Might Make The Worst Of Us Good.

I Would Rather Have It Said, 'he Lived Usefully,' Than, 'he Died Rich.'

Industry And Patience Are The Surest Means Of Plenty.

Use No Hurtful Deceit; Think Innocently And Justly And, If You Speak, Speak Accordingly.

Death Is A Fisherman, The World We See His Fish-pond Is, And We The Fishes Be; His Net Some General Sickness; Howe'er He Is Not So Kind As Other Fishers Be; For If They Take One Of The Smaller Fry, They Throw Him In Again, He Shall Not Die: But Death Is Sure To Kill All He Can Get, And All Is Fish With Him That Comes To Net.