Every Traveler Has A Home Of His

The Rain And Hail Pattered Against The Glass; The Chimneys Quaked And Rocked; The Crazy Casement Rattled With The Wind, As Though An Impatient Hand Inside Were Striving To Burst It Open. But No Hand Was There, And It Opened No More.

A Heart Well Worth Winning, And Well Won. A Heart That, Once Won, Goes Through Fire And Water For The Winner, And Never Changes, And Is Never Daunted.

A Dream, All A Dream, That Ends In Nothing, And Leaves The Sleeper Where He Lay Down, But I Wish You To Know That You Inspired It.

Man," Said The Ghost, "if Man You Be In Heart, Not Adamant, Forbear That Wicked Cant Until You Have Discovered What The Surplus Is, And Where It Is. Will You Decide What Men Shall Live, What Men Shall Die?

"vell," Said Mr. Weller, "now I S'pose He'll Want To Call Some Witnesses To Speak To His Character, Or P'raps To Prove A Alleybi. I've Been A Turnin' The Bis'ness Over In My Mind, And He May Make His-self Easy, Sammy. I've Got Some Friends As'll Do Either For Him, But My Adwice 'ud Be This Here-never Mind The Character, And Stick To The Alleybi. Nothing Like A Alleybi, Sammy, Nothing."