1881. -1st Month. 31 Days. January.

Another year with all hopes and fears, Has sunk into the deep abyss of time; And on the threshold of the new we stand, Like travellers to a strange and distant time. Hope smiling beckons to heaven where God and angels dwell, Assuring us that all our untried future Is known to him who "doeth all things well."

From the Rose of Cheriton

The autumn day was closing, cool and dry; The sun was setting in a cloudless sky Flinging around him as he sank to rest, A crimson glory flushing east and west.