. The Rotunda . train, andthings of hat sort. And by all means,you n-e-v-e-r get familiarwith peo;le on the trains. Let me tellyou, oncf I knew a girl who was trav-eling alo:e and on the train she com-menced i conversation with a strangeman and bless your life, she marriedhim befce she had known him twodays! Shicking, shocking! Shame onme; I sljuldnt put such ideas intoyour pre :y heads. But I trust you allgot to cUege safe and sound, so Ishould Virry. Now tht you are at college though,you will still need advice—Im case ou have a puzzling love af-fair or omething of the sort jus
. The Rotunda . train, andthings of hat sort. And by all means,you n-e-v-e-r get familiarwith peo;le on the trains. Let me tellyou, oncf I knew a girl who was trav-eling alo:e and on the train she com-menced i conversation with a strangeman and bless your life, she marriedhim befce she had known him twodays! Shicking, shocking! Shame onme; I sljuldnt put such ideas intoyour pre :y heads. But I trust you allgot to cUege safe and sound, so Ishould Virry. Now tht you are at college though,you will still need advice—Im case ou have a puzzling love af-fair or omething of the sort justdrop Kuan Kitty a line. Shell be ableto straiihten you out and tell youwhat todo. (Dont forget that I hada beau mce, myself, girls. Ah, suchtender, painfully sweet memorieswhich eigulf me!) Let me in on allyour sclool-girl problems, dears, andremembr, every thing is strictly con-fidentia Your affectionate, Kuzin KittyP. S. Be sure to let me hear fromyou in itne to get my replies in nextweeks iotunda.—K. THESE THREE To feel though years in mystic silence all is right;To know that each long, speechless month but leadsToward the light—That. dear, is Faith. To think with each new morn may-hap some word Will come today. Yet bearing disappointment with asmile At each delay— That, dear, is Hope. To trust through evil days, forgiving allThat may have passed;To hope, to trust, to know that life and strengthWill come at last—•That, dear heart, is Love. —Jennie Masters Tabb TIME PASSES Time passes, the years roll bright day comes with the rosy morn,A child plays by the garden wallTill twilight deepens, and shadows fall;Time passes—a day is done. A gardener old trims the hedge by the lawn,His shoulders bent, face care-worn,But over the years his memory the airy castles of childhood passes—a life is gone. Over the past a curtain is age and youth in its early mornAre screened within by its silken the future the l
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