My eyes grow dim with longing; my heart grows numb with pain; I feel that you are waiting, dear, to clasp me once again. My soul pines for the journey’s end, when I, too, shall be free, And I’ll lie down to sleep, love, in the last long sleep, near thee.
Bernard P. Bogy.
According to Garfield
STELLA—Would you marry a poor man?
Bella—Yes, I would marry a beef magnate who only made two per cent.
Pole Baker
BY WILL N. HARBEN
Author of “The Georgians,” “Abner Daniel,” etc.