As I Pass Through My

Good Luck Go With You, O Chief Of The Wolves. And Good Luck And Strong White Teeth Go With Noble Children That They May Never Forget The Hungry In This World.

Ye May Kill For Yourselves, And Your Mates, And Your Cubs As They Need, And Ye Can; But Kill Not For Pleasure Of Killing, And Seven Times Never Kill Man!

They Shut The Road Through The Woods Seventy Years Ago. Weather And Rain Have Undone It Again, And Now You Would Never Know There Was Once A Road Through The Woods

Now India Is A Place Beyond All Others Where One Must Not Take Things Too Seriously—the Midday Sun Always Excepted.

There Are Gems Of Wondrous Brightness Ofttimes Lying At Our Feet, And We Pass Them, Walking Thoughtless, Down The Busy, Crowded Street. If We Knew, Our Pace Would Slacken, We Would Step More Oft With Care, Lest Our Careless Feet Be Treading To The Earth Some Jewel Rare.