A lovely bird; the garden's pride;
Nurs'd with the utmost care,
No flow'r, in all the gardens wide;
Incited hopes so rare:
Each passing day develops more
Each beauty, than the day before.

Lovely in form, in features mild;
In thy deportment pure:
Zealous for right, e'en from a child,
A friend, both true and sure.

May thy maturer years be bright,
Cloudless and fair thy skies;
No storms to fright, nor frosts to blight,
And cause thy fears to rise.
May thy last days, in peace go past,
Each being better than the last;
Eternally thy joys grow brighter--
So prays D. Scott the humble writer.



MINUTES

OF THE JACKSON HALL DEBATING SOCIETY, DEC. 5, 1877.

My muse inspire me, while I tell
The weighty matters that befell