"drink With Me, My Dear,"

Things Cannot Be Expected To Turn Up Of Themselves. We Must In A Measure Assist To Turn Them Up

That Glorious Vision Of Doing Good Is So Often The Sanguine Mirage Of So Many Good Minds.

You Have Been The Last Dream Of My Soul.

And How Did Little Tim Behave?” Asked Mrs Cratchit, When She Had Rallied Bob On His Credulity And Bob Had Hugged His Daughter To His Heart’s Content. “as Good As Gold,” Said Bob, “and Better. Somehow He Gets Thoughtful, Sitting By Himself So Much, And Thinks The Strangest Things You Ever Heard. He Told Me, Coming Home, That He Hoped The People Saw Him In The Church, Because He Was A Cripple, And It Might Be Pleasant To Them To Remember Upon Christmas Day, Who Made Lame Beggars Walk, And Blind Men See.

Never Close Your Lips To Those Whom You Have Already Opened Your Heart.