dricks, Vhen he calls our goot Bresident's age eighty-six. An octogeranium!
Who would suppose? My dear Mrs. Julia Ward Howe,der time goes!
Yawcob Strauss (Charles Follen Adams).
You, who are of the spring, To whom Youth's joys must cling, May all that Love can give Beguile you long to live-- Our Queen of Hearts.
Louise Chandler Moulton.
Here, on this joyous day of days, O deign to list my skill-less praise. W hate'er be said with tongue or pen Extolling thee, I cry Amen.
Beulah Marie Dix.
Mrs. Howe was not apprised of the project in advance, and certainly had not seen the verses; but was, at any rate, ready as usual, and this sketch may well close with her cheery answer:--
Mrs. Howe's reply Why, bless you, I ain't nothing, nor nobody, nor much, If you look in your Directory you'll find a thousand such. I walk upon the level ground, I breathe upon the air, I study at a table and reflect upon a chair.
I know a casual mixture of the Latin and the Greek, I know the F