I cannot help but smile when my eyes rest upon my hat. Tis a more than serviceable hat, made of felted fur, and has stood up to the passage of time admirably. When first I obtained it, I was a boy, and felt that I might wear it and stride down the street as a man -- a man! -- and gather the admiration of all who passed ( Read more... )

The handwriting is slightly larger and less neat than usual. There is a ring of crinkled paper directly in the center of the page, smearing some of the wordsHer name was I----, and she was my mother. Someday, I should very much like to be able to say those words to someone, without remembering the last *larger dot of ink ( Read more... )