. Book of the Royal blue . ; andlast, but not least, the excellent tables andhome-like comforts of the hotels, at pricesmore reasonable than are to be found atany other seaside resort in the country forthe same kind of accommodations. Visitors to Atlantic City who havetraveled around the whole world, say thatthere is no other place on earth like it andno other place where are to be found thefreedom, unassuming social features andtotal absence of conventionality which con-stitute its peculiar and most potentialcharm. The poor may for a time enjoy itssuperior pleasures as well as the rich andbe
. Book of the Royal blue . ; andlast, but not least, the excellent tables andhome-like comforts of the hotels, at pricesmore reasonable than are to be found atany other seaside resort in the country forthe same kind of accommodations. Visitors to Atlantic City who havetraveled around the whole world, say thatthere is no other place on earth like it andno other place where are to be found thefreedom, unassuming social features andtotal absence of conventionality which con-stitute its peculiar and most potentialcharm. The poor may for a time enjoy itssuperior pleasures as well as the rich andbe on equal social footing with them andfar off be the day when this gem of the sea-side shall deteriorate into a conventional,ultra-fashionable and exclusive re-sort, suchas some on our coast, chiefly peopled withcommonplace and brainless men and women,whose chief ambition appears to be to poseand parade as models and dummies, exhibit-ing the skill and creations of tailors anddressmakers and the decorative art of OUR BOYS. BY Dli. THOMAS CALVER. T IlE memory of the brave is ever young, Is ever fresh and bright within our hearts;No skillful eloquence of silver tongue The fullness of our love to words the weaving of a magic art, In story of their fame, their well-earned joys,Are words that spring unbidden from the heart And tell how dear they are to us—Our Doys. Within our minds we see them at the front, In battle line before an angry and hoping that the battles brunt May be their lot, that they their strength may we see them in the raging fight, The rain of bullets and the awful ever in their dauntless might. And, oh! how proud we are of them— Our Boys. We see them resting on the tented field. In thought of what has been and what may come;In grief for comrades lost, but quick to yield Obedience to the hurried call of see them thinking of their home and friends And loving lips whose sweetness never cloys;O
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