Today's Stichomancy for Ayn Rand

When dawn's first cymbals beat upon the sky, Rousing the world to labour's various cry, To tend the flock, to bind the mellowing grain, From ardent toil to forge a little gain, And fasting men go forth on hurrying feet, BUY BREAD, BUY BREAD, rings down the eager street.

When the earth falters and the waters swoon With the implacable radiance of noon, And in dim shelters koils hush their notes, And the faint, thirsting blood in languid throats Craves liquid succour from the cruel heat,

this place of ease and hope, accept and inflame our gratitude; help us to repay, in service one to another, the debt of thine unmerited benefits and mercies, so that, when the period of our stewardship draws to a conclusion, when the windows begin to be darkened, when the bond of the family is to be loosed, there shall be no bitterness of remorse in our farewells.

Help us to look back on the long way that Thou hast brought us, on the long days in which we have been served, not according to our deserts, but our desires; on the pit and the miry clay, the blackness of despair, the horror of misconduct, from which our feet have been plucked out. For our sins forgiven or prevented, for our

behaved with credit throughout. He was at length made to see that circumstances forbade any breach between his family and that of the other young man. John held back--who would not, after such an insult?--but Miss Josephine was firm, and he has promised to call and shake hands. My cousin, Doctor Beaugarcon, assures me that the young man's injuries are trifling--a week will see him restored and presentable again."

"A week? A mere nothing!" I answered "Do you know," I now suggested, "that you have forgotten to ask me what I was thinking about when we met?"

"Bless me, young gentleman! and was it so remarkable?"

"Not at all, but it partly answers what Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael asked