小迎书屋

THE PROCESSION OF LIFELife figures itself to me as a festal or funereal procession. Allof us have our places, and are to move onward under the directionof the Chief Marshal. The grand difficulty results from theinvariably mistaken principles on which the deputy marshals seekto arrange this immense concourse of people, so much morenumerous than those that train their interminable length throughstreets and highways in times of political excitement. Theirscheme is ancient, far beyond the memory of