Dr. Edward Waldo Emerson, of Concord, is fond of telling of an old servant whose heart was exceedingly kind, and in whom the qualities of pity and compassion were developed nearly to perfection. He was once driving his master and Emerson through the country. As they approached a new house that the master was building, they saw an old woman sneaking away with a bundle of wood. “Jabez, Jabez,” cried the master, “do you see that old woman taking my wood?” Jabez looked with pity at the old woman, then with scorn at his master. “No, sir,” he said stoutly, “I don’t see her, and I didn’t think that you would see her either.”
“They said that we would never be happy,” moaned the young bride.
“But you are happy.”
“But now they say it won’t last.”
“That fellow,” said Alfred Henry Lewis, the other day, when a certain well-known Tammany man was mentioned, “puts up a good bluff, but there is nothing to him. Open the front door and you are in his back yard.”
Little Paul trying on his grandmother’s glasses—“Grandma, what is it between my eyes and the glasses, I can’t see anything.”