sigh for every one.
He cannot wear a smiling face
When mine is touched with gloom,
But, like the violet, seeks to cheer
The midnight with perfume.

Commend me to that generous heart
Which, like the pine on high,
Uplifts the same unvarying brow
To every change of sky;
Whose friendship does not fade away
When wintry tempests blow,
But, like the winter's icy crown,
Looks greener through the snow.

He flies not with the flitting stork
That seeks a southern sky,
But lingers where the wounded bird
Hath laid him down to die.
Oh, such a friend! He is in truth,
Whate'er his lot may be,
A rainbow on the storm of life,
An anchor on its sea.

_Answers._

THINGS TO FORGET.

If you see a tall fellow ahead of a crowd,
A leader of men, marching fearless and proud,
And you know of a tale whose mere telling aloud
Would cause his proud head to in anguish be bowed,
It's a pretty good plan to forget it.

If you know of a skeleton hidden away
In a closet, and guarded, and kept from the day
In the dark; and whose showing, whose sudden display,
Would cause grief and sorrow and lifelong dismay,
It's a pretty good plan to forget it.

If you know of a thing that will darken the joy
Of a man or a woman, a girl or a boy,
That will wipe out a smile or the least way annoy
A fellow, or cause any gladness to cloy,
It's a pretty good plan to forget it.

_Answers._

FRIENDS.

When a fellow's kind of wobbly and uncertain on his feet,
And has to work like sixty for to get both ends to meet--
When he's not of much account and has to take what he can get--
The people don't come flockin' to be friends of his, you bet!
They don't come sayin', "Old chap, I'm the only friend you've got,"
And "Remember that we're brothers," and that kind of tommyrot.
No, indeed!
And they don't get jealous of you when friends are what you need.

If a fellow's kind of lonesome and would like a friend or two
Just to come around and jolly him when things are lookin' blue;
If the shirt that he's wearin' is the only one he's got,
And he never showed the public that he's really on the spot,
They don't come crowdin' round him, nor stick out their hands and say,
"We're your friends, old man; we love you--we've