ing, with despatchful looks in haste
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. V_. MILTON.

This night I hold an old accustomed feast,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love; and you among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
_Romeo and Juliet, Act i. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

The atmosphere
Breathes rest and comfort and the many chambers
Seem full of welcomes.
_Masque of Pandora_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
_Comedy of Errors, Act iii. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Oh, better no doubt is a dinner of herbs,
When seasoned by love, which no rancor disturbs
And sweetened by all that is sweetest in life
Than turbot, bisque, ortolans, eaten in strife!
_Lucile_. LORD LYTTON (_Owen Meredith_).

Now good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!
_Macbeth, Act iii. Sc_. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

I've often wished that I had clear,
For life, six hundred pounds a year,
A handsome house to lodge a friend,
A river at my garden's end.
_Imitation of Horace, Bk. II. Sat_. 6. J. SWIFT.

True friendship's laws are by this rule exprest,
Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.
_Odyssey, Bk. XV_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

HUMILITY.

Humility, that low, sweet root,
From which all heavenly virtues shoot.
_Loves of the Angels: The Third Angel's Story_. T. MOORE.

Content thyself to be obscurely good.
When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,
The post of honor is a private station.
_Cato, Act iv. Sc_. 4. J. ADDISON.

In a bondman's key,
With 'bated breath, and whisp'ring humbleness.
_Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

It is the witness still of excellency
To put a strange face on his own perfection.
_Much Ado About Nothing, Act ii. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

God hath sworn to lift on high
Who sinks himself by true humility.
_Miscellaneous Poems: At Hooker's Tomb_. J. KEBLE.

HUNTING.

Soon as Aurora drives away the night,
And edges eastern clouds with rosy light,
The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn,
Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn.
_Rural Sports, Canto II_. J. GAY.

Together let us beat this ample field,
Try what the open, what the covert yield.
_Essay on Man, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

My hoarse-sounding horn
Invites thee to the chase, the sport of kings;
Imag