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Show if : j Rippling' i Rhymes j liy WAif t.iHbON, I COMFORTING THOUGHTS The wind Js tempered to the sheep whose coat of wool vis shorn; and there's a balm for those who weep, for those who sigh and mourn. I'vo never seen so dark a day, so full of grief and care, I couldn't find a little ray of comfort anywhere. Thus, when my aunt came here to spend six months "or more with us, I thought my joy must' have an end? like Job, I stooped to cuss. Then I recalled the solemn fact that seven aunts are mine; if they all to my wigwam tracked, I well might shed the brine. But only one of them had come to linger in my lair, and it were folly to be glum and say that llife's a snare. Whatever evil comes jiiong. your passing days to curse, whatever ill, whatever wrong, be sure it might be worse. And if you bear that truth In mind, and paste it in your tile, 'twill ease the sad and : painful grind, and help you sing and I smile. |