Seventeen Hundred Fifty-nine. He died in Seventeen Hundred Ninety-six, and
was buried at Dumfries by the "gentleman volunteers," in spite of his last
solemn words--"Don't let the Awkward Squad fire over my grave!"

His mother survived him thirty-eight years, passing out in Eighteen
Hundred Thirty-four. Burns left four sons, each of whom was often pointed
out as the son of his father--but none of them was.

This is all I think of, at present, concerning Robert Burns.

For further facts I must refer the Gentle Reader to the "Encyclopedia
Britannica," a compilation that I cheerfully recommend, it having been
vouched for to me by a dear friend, a clergyman of East Aurora, who, the
past year, perused the entire work, from A to Z, reading five hours a day:
and therefore is competent to speak.




JOHN MILTON

Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me; from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair
Presented with a universal blank