Oh, Jo, How Could You? Your One

Mrs. Jo Did Not Mean The Measles, But That More Serious Malady Called Love, Which Is Apt To Ravage Communities, Spring And Autumn, When Winter Gayety And Summer Idleness Produce Whole Bouquets Of Engagements, And Set Young People To Pairing Off Like The Birds.

…misfortune Was Much More Interesting To Her Than Good Luck.

You Are Like A Chestnut Burr, Prickly Outside, But Silky-soft Within, And A Sweet Kernel, If One Can Only Get At It. Love Will Make You Show Your Heart Some Day, And Then The Rough Burr Will Fall Off.

Work Is And Always Has Been My Salvation And I Thank The Lord For It.

Love Is The Only Thing That We Can Carry With Us When We Go, And It Makes The End So Easy.