Mothers! To yours, tender voices reply,
Little ones' hands at your skirts softly pull;
Widowed and lonely and childless am I,
Empty my heart—though my coffers are full.
—Gus Gordon.
339
POOR AND RICH.
Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?
O sweet content!
Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed?
O punishment!
340
Every one must see daily instances of people who complain, from a mere habit of complaining.
—Graves.
341
A compliment is usually accompanied with a bow, as if to beg pardon for paying it.