July Twenty-Sixth
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MAMMY PHYLLIS
“Hush, Mary Van,” commanded Willis; “you can’t crow, you’ve got to cackle.”
“I haven’t neether; I can crow just as good as you. Can’t I, Mammy Phyllis?”
“Well,” solemnly answered Phyllis, “it soun’ mo’ ladylike ter hear er hen cackle dan ter crow, but dem wimmen fokes whut wants ter heah dersefs crow is got de right ter do it,” shaking her head in resignation but disapproval, “but I allus notice dat de roosters keeps mo’ comp’ny wid hens whut cackles dan dem whut crows. G’long now an’ cackle like er nice lit’le hen.”
Sarah Johnson Cocke
July Twenty-Seventh
’Tis night! calm, lovely, silent, cloudless night!
Unnumbered stars on Heaven’s blue ocean-stream,
Ships of Eternity! shed silver light,
Pure as an infant’s or an angel’s dream;
And still exhaustless, glorious, ever-bright,
Such as Creation’s dawn beheld them beam,
In changeless orbits hold their ceaseless race
For endless ages over boundless space!
Richard Henry Wilde
July Twenty-Eighth