No One Should Teach Who

On The Day Long After Childhood When I Suddenly Heard Of His Death, The Sky Grew Dark Above My Head. I Was Walking On A Southern Highway, And A Friend Driving In A Pony Carriage Passed Me, Stopped And Said, "have You Heard That Charles Dickens Is Dead?" It Was As If I Had Been Robbed Of One Of My Dearest Friends.

At Christmas-tide The Open Hand Scatters Its Bounty O'er Sea And Land, And None Are Left To Grieve Alone, For Love Is Heaven And Claims Its Own.

Every Child's Birthright Is A Happy Home.

In Home Life Contentment Is An Essential To Daily Comfort. One Discontented Person In The House Creates An Atmosphere Fatal To Tranquillity.

No One Should Teach Who Is Not In Love With Teaching.