(336) 
4. 
Dear friend, please take your facile pen in hand. 
And—as if with a fairy’s magic wand— 
Record a page, a verse, or e’en a line; 
’Twill have a value for this heart of mine. 
Not for its beauty only, but its truth; 
As bringing back the days of pleasant youth. 
5. 
Little, my friend, do I of rhyming know. 
And fear I only may my weakness show, 
By daring to put down my simple thought, 
Where wittier, worthier, wiser pens have wrought. 
But from my true heart’s innermost recess, 
JVly prayers to Heaven ascend that God may bless 
Thee with the choicest gifts—with-health, with friends; 
And at the end bestow that bliss that never ends! 
—Anonymous. 
B. 
Prose Maxims. 
Remember always, that labor is one of the conditions of our existence. 
Time is gold; throw not one minute away, but place each one to account. 
Do unto all men as you would be done by. 
Never put off until to-morrow what can be done to-day. 
Never bid another do what you can do yourself. 
Never covet what is not your own. 
Never think any matter so trifling as not to deserve notice. 
Let your daily wisdom of life be in making a good use of the opportunities 
given you. 
