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TIT FOR TAT

We are quick to notice obstacles, grudges, affronts. Are we equally quick to recognize the kindly influences that speed us on our way? The truth is we are each of us a debtor to life, and as honest men we should do all we can to discharge the obligation.

"LIFE" you say, ''san, old curmudgeon; yes, a thing When I ask a friendly greeting, all I get's an angry glint. Let me do it every good turn that I can-my very best, Still it strikes me, trips, maligns me, and denies my least request.

"So," you say, "my patience ended, I will give it tit for tat.'

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What a bunch of animosities is covered by your hat! All the roses life can offer bloom and beckon to your soul,

But you close your eyes to roses and in thorns lie down and roll.

Life does nothing for you, sonny? What a notion you have! Say,

Make a little inventory of its gifts to you to-day. You've a house or room to sleep in-did you build it with your hand?

If you did, who made the hammer and who cleared for you the land?

And electric lights-you use them; did you also put them there?

Beefsteak, coal, your mail, shoes, street cars-do they come like rain from air?

Or do countless men, far-scattered, toil that you may
have more ease?-

Stokers, hodmen, farmers, plumbers, Yankees, dagoes,
Japanese?

"Oh, that's general," you tell me.

blessings too.

You have private

Why, your mother in your childhood slaved and wrought and lived for you.

Helpful hands were all around you-hopes, fond wishes in the past;

Even now each day from somewhere friendly looks are on you cast.

Though you've been both crossed and harried, you've not struggled on alone;

Through the discords of endeavor comes to you an answering tone.

Life has done you many favors. Will you give it tit for tat?

Since you've looked so much at this side, won't you have a look at that?

Don't help only those who've helped you, count the rest as strangers, foes;

How long now would you have lasted had all done as you propose?

Many and many a benefactor you did not nor can repay— There's your mother. Pass the kindness on to others that's the way.

Life it is that's given freely. Unto life make due

return.

Whether folks are undeserving, neither seek nor wish to learn.

Hit your dernedest for your teammates every time you come to bat,

And the world will be more happy that you give it tit

for tat.

St. Clair Adams.

THE KINGDOM OF MAN

The wisest men know that the greatest world is not outside them. They could, in Shakespeare's phrase, be bounded by a nutshell and count themselves kings of infinite space.

THAT of the outer drear,

WHA

As long as there's inner light;

As long as the sun of cheer
Shines ardently bright?

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ABOU BEN ADHEM

"Forgive my enemies?" said the dying man to the priest. "I have none. I've killed them all." This old ideal of exterminal ing our enemies has by no means disappeared from the earth. But it is waning. "Live and let live" is a more modern slogan, which mounts in turn from mere toleration of other people to a spirit of service and universal brotherhood. Love of our fellow men -has humanity reached any height superior to this?

ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:-
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,

"What writest thou?"-The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerily still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.”

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

THIS WORLD

Leigh Hunt.

There is good in life and there is ill. The question is where wé should put the emphasis.

HIS world that we're a-livin' in

THIS

Is mighty hard to beat;

You git a thorn with every rose,

But ain't the roses sweet!

Frank L. Stanton.

Printed in and permission from
The Atlanta Constitution."

GRAY DAYS

By reckoning up the odds against us and ignoring the forces in our favor, we may indeed close the door of hope. But why not take matters the other way about? Why not see the situation clearly and then throw our own strong purpose in the scales? In the course of a battle an officer reported to Stonewall Jackson that he must fall back because his ammunition had been spoiled by a rainstorm. "So has the enemy's," was the instant reply "Give them the bayonet." This resolute spirit won the battle.

ANG the gray days!

H The deuce-to-pay days!

The feeling-blue and nothing-to-do days!

The

sit-by-yourself-for-there's-nothing-new days!

When the cat that Care killed without excuse
With your inner self's crying, "Oh, what's the use?"
And you wonder whatever is going to become of you,
And you feel that a cipher expresses the sum of you;
And you know that you'll never,

Oh, never, be clever,

Spite of all your endeavor
Or hard work or whatever!
Oh, gee!

What a mix-up you see

When you look at the world where you happen to be! Where strangers are hateful and friends are a bore,

And you know in your heart you will smile nevermore! Gee, kid!

Clap on the lid!

It is all a mistake! Give your worries the skid!
There are sunny days coming

Succeeding the blue

And bees will be humming

Making honey for you,

And your heart will be singing

The merriest tune

While April is bringing

A May and a June!

Gray days?

Play days!

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