After that day the body of the Cid remained in the same posture, for they never took his hand off the sword, nor changed his garments more, and thus it remained three years longer, till it had been there ten years in all. And then the nose began to change color. And when the Abbot Don Garcia Tellez and Gil Diaz saw this, they weened that it was no longer fitting for the body to remain in that manner. And three bishops from the neighbouring provinces met there, and with many masses and vigils, and great honour, they interred the body after this manner. They dug a vault before the altar, beside the grave of Doña Ximena, and vaulted it over with a high arch; and there they placed the body of the Cid, seated as it was in the ivory chair, and in his garments, and with the sword in his hand, and they hung up his shield and his banner upon the walls. ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG _By_ Oliver Goldsmith Good people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song; And if you find it wondrous short, It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a Man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran, Whene'er he went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes, The naked every day he clad, When he put on his clothes. And in that town a Dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree. This Dog and Man at first were friends; But when a pique began, The Dog, to gain some private ends, Went mad and bit the Man. Around from all the neighboring streets The wond'ring neighbors ran, And swore the Dog had lost his wits, To bite so good a Man. The wound it seem'd both sore and sad To every Christian eye; And while they swore the Dog was mad, They swore the Man would die. But soon a wonder came to light, That show'd the rogues they lied: The Man recover'd of the bite, The Dog it was that died. MOTHER'S WAY [Footnote: _From Father Ryan's Poems, copyright by P. J. Kennedy & Sons, N. Y._] _By_ FATHER RYAN Oft within our little cottage, As the shadows gently fall, While the sunlight touches softly One sweet face upon the wall, Do we gather close together, And in hushed and tender tone Ask each other's full forgiveness For the wrong that each has done. Should you wonder why this custom At the ending of the day, Eye and voice would quickly answer: "It was once our mother's way." If our home be bright and cheery, If it holds a welcome true, Opening wide its door of greeting To the many--not the few; If we share our father's bounty With the needy day by day, 'Tis because our hearts remember This was ever mother's way.