Young Lawyers Attend The Courts, Not Because

If I Can, By A Lucky Chance, In These Uneasy Days, Rub Out One Wrinkle From The Brow Of Care, Or Beguile The Heavy Heart Of One Moment Of Sadness; If I Can, How And Then, Prompt A Happier View Of Human Nature, And Make My Reader More In Good Humor With His Fellow-beings And Himself, Surely, I Shall Not Have Written In Vain.

The Moan Of The Whip-poor-will From The Hillside; The Boding Cry Of The Tree-toad, That Harbinger Of Storm; The Dreary Hooting Of The Screechowl.

Sometimes He Spent Hours Together In The Great Libraries Of Paris, Those Catacombs Of Departed Authors, Rummaging Among Their Hoards Of Dusty And Obsolete Works In Quest Of Food For His Unhealthy Appetite. He Was, In A Manner, A Literary Ghoul, Feeding In The Charnel-house Of Decayed Literature.

A Few Amber Clouds Floated In The Sky Without A Breath Of Air To Move Them. The Horizon Was Of A Fine Golden Tint, Changing Gradually Into A Pure Apple-green, And From That Into The Deep Blue Of The Mid-heaven.

There Is Certain Relief In Change, Even Though It Be From Bad To Worse! As I Have Often Found In Traveling In A Stagecoach, That It Is Often A Comfort To Shift One's Position, And Be Bruised In A New Place.