love.
Here's to those who love those who love me.

It is best to love wisely, no doubt; but to love foolishly is better
than not to be able to love at all.--_Thackeray_.

Mysterious love, uncertain treasure,
Hast thou more of pain or pleasure!
* * * * * * * * *
Endless torments dwell about thee:
Yet who would live, and live without thee!

--_Addison_.

O, love, love, love!
Love is like a dizziness;
It winna let a poor body
Gang about his biziness!

--_Hogg_.

Let the man who does not wish to be idle, fall in love.--_Ovid_.

LOYALTY

Jenkins, a newly wedded suburbanite, kissed his wife goodby the other
morning, and, telling her he would be home at six o'clock that evening,
got into his auto and started for town.

At six o'clock no hubby had appeared, and the little wife began to get
nervous. When the hour of midnight arrived she could bear the suspense
no longer, so she aroused her father and sent him off to the telegraph
office with six telegrams to as many brother Elks living in town, asking
each if her husband was stopping with him overnight.

Morning came, and the frantic wife had received no intelligence of the
missing man. As dawn appeared, a farm wagon containing a farmer and the
derelict husband drove up to the house, while behind the wagon trailed
the broken-down auto. Almost simultaneously came a messenger boy with an
answer to one of the telegrams, followed at intervals by five others.
All of them read:

"Yes, John is spending the night with me."--_Bush Phillips_.

BOY--"Come quick, there's a man been fighting my father more'n half an
hour."

POLICEMAN--"Why didn't you tell me before?"

BOY--"'Cause father was getting the best of it till a few minutes ago."

LUCK

Some people are so fond of ill-luck that they run half-way to meet
it.--_Douglas Jerrold_.

O, once in each man's life, at least,
Good luck knocks at his door;
And wit to seize the flitting guest
Need never hunger more.
But while the loitering idler waits
Good luck beside his fire,
The bold heart storms at fortunes gates,
And conquers its desire.

--_Lewis J. Bates_.

"Tommy," said his brother, "you're a regular little glutton. How can you
eat so much?"

"Don't know; it's just good luck," replied the youngster.

A negro who was having one misfortune after another said he was having
as bad luck as the man with