A Good Humor

And here is a young lady of good family. She always insisted upon singing in society, and when she sang, "Mi manca la voce! " that was the only truth she ever spoke.

Here rests another young girl, of a very different nature. Alas! When the bird of the heart begins to sing, too often will Reason stop up her ears. Lovely maiden, she was to be married; but that's an everyday story - may she rest in peace!

Here lies a widow who had the sweetness of the swan on her lips and the gall of the owl in her heart. She went from one family to another, feeding upon the faults of her neighbors.

Now, this is a family vault; every member of that family lived in the sublime faith that whatever the world and the newspapers said must indeed be true. If the young son of that house came home from school and announced, "This is how I heard it!," his news, whatever it might be, was received without question, because he belonged to the family. And certain it is that if the cock of that family had decided to crow at midnight, the whole family would have insisted that morning had dawned, even if the watchman and all the clocks of the town announced it was midnight.

The great Goethe concluded his Faust with the words, "It may be continued"; and thus will I conclude our walk in the churchyard.

I go there often, for whenever one of my friends or unfriends, gives me to understand that he wishes to be as one dead to me, I go there, find a spot of green turf, and dedicate it to him or her, whomever I wish to bury. In this way I have buried many of my acquaintances. There they lie, powerless to harm me, until the time when they may return to life, better and wiser than before. I write down in my book their life and history, as seen from my point of view. Everybody ought to do so!

You shouldn't be upset if your friends do something foolish; bury them at once, keep your good humor, and read the Advertiser, for this paper is written by the people, although their pens are sometimes wrongly guided.