It is indeed as the Sweet Singer of Michigan says--irrelevantly, of course, for the one and unfailing great quality which distinguishes her poetry from Shakespeare's and makes it precious to us is its stern and simple irrelevancy: My heart was gay and happy, This was ever in my mind, There is better times a coming, And I hope some day to find Myself capable of composing, It was my heart's delight To compose on a sentimental subject If it came in my mind just right.
-- ["The Sentimental Song Book," p.

49; theme, "The Author's Early Life," 19th stanza.] Barroda.

Arrived at 7 this morning.

The dawn was just beginning to show.

It was forlorn to have to turn out in a strange place at such a time, and the blinking lights in the station made it seem night still.
But the gentlemen who had come to receive us were there with their servants, and they make quick work; there was no lost time.