More from the Second Souvenir (written January 25, 1889.) "I believe if in my grave, Hidden in woody deeps all by the wave. Your eyes should drop some warm tears of regret, >From every salty seed of your deep grief Some fair, sweet blosson would leap into leaf. To prove that Death could not make my love forger." One of the "Humbler Poets" Once again let me pause in quiet, retrospective thought; let me stand aside to see the phantons of past days go by me, accompanying the shadow of myself in dim procession. Weeks, months, years glide alon. They seem little more than a summer day and a winter evening. I find in my hand to-day the marriage ring I placed upon Eliza's finger nearly thirty-five years ago, and a keepsake book, "The Family Circle," which I gave her April 3, 1853, after our engagement but before out marriage. While looking in my library I take from its shelves, this neat little volume, which I find in a good state of preservation, though it has been read and reread with much profit to both of us. The value to me of this little book in increased as I read on the fly-leaf the inscription: "Eliza C. Masiker, April3, 1853," and "Francis C. Waid, April 3, 1853" both in our own handwriting. If this little memento is so valuable to me, I ask what should be the Bible? I have stood aside to see the phantoms of those days go by. They are gone, and I resume the thread of my story. Sandy Schroeder slschroe@intrepid.net