All to myself I think of you—
Think of the things we used to do,
Think of the things we used to say,
Think of each happy yesterday;
Sometimes I sigh and sometimes I smile,
But I keep each olden, golden while
All to myself.
—W. D. N.
_Pasture Pot Pourri_
Brevity is the sole of wit, and the sole charm of a maiden’s skirt.
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It’s the first straw hat which shows how the wind blows.
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