“And so, about this tomb of mine . . . “

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  “VANITY, saith the preacher, vanity!  Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back?  Nephews—sons mine … ah God, I know not! Well—  She, men would have to be your mother once,  Old Gandolf envied me, so fair she was!  What’s done is done, and she is dead beside,  Dead long ago, and I am Bishop since,  And as she died so must we die ourselves,  And thence ye may perceive the world’s a dream.  Life, how and what is it?  As here I lie In this state-chamber, dying by degrees,  Hours and long hours in the dead night,  I ask “Do I live, am I dead?”  Peace, peace seems all.  Saint Praxed’s ever was the church for peace;  And so, about this tomb of mine.  I fought With tooth and nail to save my niche, ye know:  —Old Gandolf cozened me, despite my care;  Shrewd was that snatch from out the corner  South He graced his carrion with,  God curse the same!  Yet still my niche is not so cramped...

Setting the Table

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In the year 1818, the King of Huachine, one of the South Sea Islands, became a Christian. He discovered a plot among his fellow natives to seize him and other converts and burn them to death.

He organized a band to attack the plotters, captured them unawares and then set a feast before them. This unexpected kindness surprised the savages, who burned their idols and became Christians.

(From the Encyclopedia of 7700 Illustrations)

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