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"I lack only one of having a hundred," said a student after an examination; “I have the two naughts.' And all he did lack was a one, rightly placed. The world is full of opportunities. Disdernment to perceive, courage to undertake, patience to carry through, will change the whole aspect of the universe for us and bring positive achievement out of meaningless negation.

7ITH doubt and dismay you are smitten


You think there's no chance for you, son?
Why, the best books haven't been written
The best race hasn't been run,

The best score hasn't been made yet,
The best song hasn't been sung,
The best tune hasn't been played yet,
Cheer up, for the world is young!

No chance? Why the world is just eager
For things that you ought to create
Its store of true wealth is still meagre
Its needs are incessant and great,
It yearns for more power and beauty
More laughter and love and romance,
More loyalty, labor and duty,

No chance-why there's nothing but chance!

For the best verse hasn't been rhymed yet,
The best house hasn't been planned,
The highest peak hasn't been climbed yet,
The mightiest rivers aren't spanned,
Don't worry and fret, faint hearted,
The chances have just begun,

For the Best jobs haven't been started,
The Best work hasn't been done.

Berton Braley.

From "A Banjo at Armageddon,"

Copyright, 1917,

George H. Doran Co., Publishers.


Said an Irishman who had several times been kicked downstairs: "I begin to think they don't want me around here." So it is with our sorrows, our struggles. Life decrees that they belong to us individually. If we try to make others share them, we are shunned. But struggling and weary humanity is glad enough te share our joys.

LAUGH, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone;

For the sad old earth

Must borrow its mirth,

It has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound

To a joyful sound,

But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure
Of all your pleasure,

But they do not want your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all;

There are none to decline

Your nectared wine,

But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by;
Succeed and give,

And it helps you live,

But it cannot help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train;

But one by one

We must all file on

Through the narrow aisles of pain.

from "How Salvator Won,"

W. B. Conkey Co., Chicago, Ill.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox.


"An artist's career," said Whistler, "always begins to-morrow." So does the career of any man of courage and imagination. The Eden of such a man does not lie in yesterday. If he has done well, he forgets his achievements and dreams of the big deeds ahead. If he has been thwarted, he forgets his failures and looks forward to vast, sure successes. If fate itself opposes him, he defies it. Farragut's fleet was forcing an entrance into Mobile Bay. One of the vessels struck something, a terrific explosion followed, the vessel went down. "Torpedoes, sir." They scanned the face of the commander-in-chief. But Farragut did not hesi→ tate. “Damn the torpedoes," said he. “Go ahead.”


HAVE hoped, I have planned, I have striven,

To the will I have added the deed;

The best that was in me I've given,

I have prayed, but the gods would not heed.

I have dared and reached only disaster,
I have battled and broken my lance;

I am bruised by a pitiless master

That the weak and the timid call Chance.

I am old, I am bent, I am cheated
Of all that Youth urged me to win;
But name me not with the defeated,
To-morrow again, I begin.

Permission of the Author.

From "Poems That Have Helped Me,"

P. F. Volland & Co., Chicago, Ill.

S. E. Kiser.



When Captain John Smith was made the leader of the colonists at Jamestown, Va., he discouraged the get-rich-quick seekers of gold by announcing flatly, "He who will not work shall not eat." This rule made of Jamestown the first permanent English settlement in the New World. But work does more than lead to material success. It gives an outlet from sorrow, restrains wild desires, ripens and refines character, enables human beings to cooperate with God, and when well done, brings to life its consummate satisfaction. Every man is a Prince of Possibilities, but by work alone can he come into his Kingship.

WORKank God for the might of it,

The ardor, the urge, the delight of it-
Work that springs from the heart's desire,
Setting the brain and the soul on fire-
Oh, what is so good as the heat of it,
And what is so glad as the beat of it,
And what is so kind as the stern command,
Challenging brain and heart and hand?


Thank God for the pride of it,

For the beautiful, conquering tide of it,
Sweeping the life in its furious flood,
Thrilling the arteries, cleansing the blood,
Mastering stupor and dull despair,
Moving the dreamer to do and dare.
Oh, what is so good as the urge of it,
And what is so glad as the surge of it,

And what is so strong as the summons deep,
Rousing the torpid soul from sleep?


Thank God for the pace of it,

For the terrible, keen, swift race of it;

Fiery steeds in full control,

Nostrils a-quiver to greet the goal.

Work, the Power that drives behind,
Guiding the purposes, taming the mind,
Holding the runaway wishes back,
Reining the will to one steady track,
Speeding the energies faster, faster,
Triumphing over disaster.

Oh, what is so good as the pain of it,
And what is so great as the gain of it?
And what is so kind as the cruel goad,
Forcing us on through the rugged road?


Thank God for the swing of it,

For the clamoring, hammering ring of it,
Passion and labor daily hurled

On the mighty anvils of the world.
Oh, what is so fierce as the flame of it?
And what is so huge as the aim of it?
Thundering on through dearth and doubt,
Calling the plan of the Maker out.
Work, the Titan; Work, the friend,
Shaping the earth to a glorious end,
Draining the swamps and blasting the hills,
Doing whatever the Spirit wills—
Rending a continent apart,

To answer the dream of the Master heart.
Thank God for a world where none may shirk-
Thank God for the splendor of work!

Angela Morgan.

From "The Hour Has Struck,"

The John Lane Co.

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