My son, a perfect

My son, a perfect little boy of five years and three months, had ended his earthly life. You can never sympathize with me; you can never know how much of me such a young child can take away. A few weeks ago I accounted myself a very rich man, and now the poorest of all. … Read more

Someone asked me…how it

Someone asked me…how it felt and I was reminded of a story that a fellow townsman of ours used to tell–Abraham Lincoln. They asked him how he felt once after an unsuccessful election. He said he felt like a little boy who had stubbed his toe in the dark. He said that he was too … Read more