Sixteen Americans who died on the Tuscania are buried at the water's edge at the base of the rocky cliffs at a Scottish port.--(News Dispatch.) Cliffs of Scotland, guard them well, Shield them from the blizzard's rage; Let your granite towers tell That those sleeping heroes fell In the service of their age. Cliffs of Scotland, they were ours! Now forever they are thine! Guard them with your mighty powers! Barren are your rocks of flowers, But their splendor makes them fine. Cliffs of Scotland, at your base Freedom's finest children lie; Keep them in your strong embrace! Tell the young of every race Such as they shall never die. Cliffs of Scotland, never more Men shall think you stern and cold; Splendor now has found your shore; Unto you the ocean bore Freedom's precious sons to hold. Mother's Party Dress "Some day," says Ma, "I'm goin' to get A party dress all trimmed with jet, An' hire a seamstress in, an' she Is goin' to fit it right on me; An' then, when I'm invited out To teas an' socials hereabout, I'll put it on an' look as fine As all th' women friends of mine." An' Pa looked up: "I sold a cow," Says he, "go down an' get it now." An' Ma replied: "I guess I'll wait, We've other needs that's just as great. The children need some clothes to wear, An' there are shoes we must repair; It ain't important now to get A dress fer me, at least not yet; I really can't afford it." Ma's talked about that dress fer years; How she'd have appliqued revers; The kind o' trimmin' she would pick; How 't would be made to fit her slick; The kind o' black silk she would choose, The pattern she would like to use. An' I can mind the time when Pa Give twenty dollars right to Ma, An' said: "Now that's enough, I guess, Go buy yourself that party dress." An' Ma would take th' bills an' smile, An' say: "I guess I'll wait awhile; Aunt Kitty's poorly now with chills, She needs a doctor and some pills; I'll buy some things fer her, I guess; An' anyhow, about that dress, I really can't afford it." An' so it's been a-goin' on, Her dress fer other things has gone; Some one in need or some one sick Has always touched her to th' quick; Or else, about th' time 'at she Could get th' dress, she'd always see The children needin' somethin' new; An' she would go an' get it, too. An' when we frowned at her, she'd smile An' say: "The dress can wait awhile." Although her mind is set on laces, Her heart goes out to other places; An' somehow, too, her money goes In ways that only mother knows. While there are things her children lack She won't put money on her back; An' that is why she hasn't got A party dress of silk, an' not Because she can't afford it. Little Fishermen A little ship goes out to sea As soon as we have finished tea; Off yonder where the big moon glows This tiny little vessel goes, But never grown-up eyes have seen The ports to which this ship has been; Upon the shore the old folks stand Till morning brings it back to land.