hearts, our hopes are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee, are all with thee.

Our National Birds.--The American Eagle, the Thanksgiving Turkey: may
one give us peace in all our States--and the other a piece for all our
plates.

OPPORTUNITY.

Master of human destinies am I.
Fame, Love and Fortune on my footsteps wait.
Cities and fields I walk; I penetrate
Deserts and seas remote, and, passing by
Hovel, and mart, and palace, soon or late
I knock unbidden once at every gate!
If sleeping, wake--if feasting, rise before
I turn away. It is the hour of fate,
And they who follow me reach every state
Mortals desire, and conquer every foe
Condemned to failure, penury, and woe.
Save death; but those who doubt or hesitate,
Seek me in vain and uselessly implore:
I answer not, and I return no more.
--John J. Ingalls.

A health to Our Dearest.--May their purses always be heavy and their
hearts always light.

An Irishman's Toast.--
Here's to the land of the shamrock so green,
Here's to each lad and his darling colleen,
Here's to the ones we love dearest and most.
And may God save old Ireland--that's an Irishman's toast.

Here's a health to the future,
A sigh for the past.
We can love and remember,
And hope to the last,
And for all the base lies
That the almanacs hold.
While there's love in the heart,
We can never grow old.

Some hae meat and canna' eat,
And some wad eat who want it;
But we hae meat and we can eat,
So let the Lord be thankit.
--Burns.

A little health, a little wealth,
A little house and freedom,
With some few friends for certain ends,
But little cause to need 'em.

If I were a raindrop and you a leaf,
I would burst from the cloud above you,
And lie on your breast in a rapture of rest,
And love you--love you--love you.

If I were a brown bee and you were a rose,
I would fly to you, love, nor miss you;
I would sip and sip from your nectared lip,
And kiss you--kiss you--kiss you.
--Ella Wheeler Wilcox, in Three Women.

Strange--is it not?--that of the myriads who
Before us passed the door of darkness through,
Not one returns to tell us of the road,
Which to discover, we must travel too?
--Omar.

Away with the flimsy idea that life with a pa