a good boy He was a good boy. Roy was a good boy. He must have gone to Heaven. But I know nothing about Heaven. It is very far off. In my best Columbia jackets and happiest days, I never liked to think of it If I were to go there, it could do me no good, for I should not see Roy. Or if by chance I should see him standing up among the grand, white angels, he would not be the old dear Roy. I should grow so tired of sing¬ing 1 Should long and fret for one little talk, — for I never...