But on inquiry, Dr.Kirkland didn't know who the author was, and little suspected it was myself.

He had seen the verses, anonymous, in a newspaper, and judging them a good moral dose of hopefulness even for the half insane, placed them on every door to excellent effect.

When to his astonishment he found the unknown author before him, greatly pleased, he asked if I would allow the patients to thank me; of course I complied, and soon was surrounded by kneeling and weeping and kissing folks, grateful for the good hope my verses had helped them to.

And twenty-five years after, in 1876, I, again without notice, visited Dr.Kirkland at the same place, scarcely expecting to find him still living, and certainly not thinking that I should see my old ballad on the doors.

But, when the happy doctor, looking not an hour older, though it was a quarter of a century, took me round to see his convalescents, behold the same words greeted me in large print,--and probably are there still: the only change being that my name appears at foot.