GRADATIM In the old fable the tortoise won the race from the hare, not by a single burst of speed, but by plodding on steadily, tirelessly. In the Civil War it was found that Lee's army could not be overwhelmed in a single battle, but one Federal general perceived that it could be worn down by time and the pressure of numbers. "I propose," said Grant, "to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer. It took more than a summer; it took nearly a yearbut he did it. In the moral realm likewise, "All things excellent are as difficult as they are rare.' Character is not attained overnight. The only way to develop moral muscles is to exercise them patiently and long. EAVEN is not reached at a single bound; HE But we build the ladder by which we rise I count this thing to be grandly true: We rise by the things that are under feet; By what we have mastered of good and gain; We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust, We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray, And we think that we mount the air on wings Wings for the angels, but feet for men! We may hope, and resolve, and aspire, and pray; But our feet must rise, or we fall again. Only in dreams is a ladder thrown From the weary earth to the sapphire walls; Heaven is not reached at a single bound; But we build the ladder by which we rise From "Complete Poetical Writings," RULES FOR THE ROAD Ardor of sinew and spirit-what else do we need to make our journey prosperous and happy? TAND straight: STAN Step firmly, throw your weight: The heaven is high above your head, The good gray road is faithful to your tread. Be strong: Sing to your heart a battle song: Though hidden foemen lie in wait, Something is in you that can smile at Fate. Press through: Nothing can harm if you are true. And when the night comes, rest: The earth is friendly as a mother's breast. Edwin Markham, From "The Gates of Paradise, and Other Poems," Doubleday, Page & Co. LIFE "What is life?" we ask. "Just one darned thing after another,” the cynic replies. Yes, a multiplicity of forces and interests, and each of them, even the disagreeable, may be of real help to us. It's good for a dog, says a shrewd philosopher, to be pestered with fleas; it keeps him from thinking too much about being a dog. WHAT THAT'S life? A story or a song; A gay adventure, short or long, A grinding task; a pleasant stroll; A pit where fortune flouts or stings; With others all in one. What's life? To love the things we see; The hills that touch the skies; And when at last the day is done To tumble into bed. Permission of the Author. From "The Philadelphia Evening Public Ledger." Griffith Alexander. HOE YOUR ROW We must not dream of harvests and neglect the toil that pro duces them. It is bad enough to cry over spilt milk. But many of us do worse; we cry over milk that we think is going to be spilt. In line sic such; 2, a' all; 3, nae no; 4, enow enough; 5, hae have; sturt=fret, trouble. UT human bodies are sic fools, BUT human bodegar an' schools, That when nae real ills perplex them, UNDISMAYED A convict explained to a visitor why he had been sent to the penitentiary. "They can't put you in here for that!" the visitor exclaimed. "They did," replied the convict. So smiling seems a futile thing. Apparently it cannot get us anywhere-but it does. H E came up smilin'-used to say He made his fortune that-a-way; But settled down an' fought her through; Slipped back some when he tried to climb He came up smilin'-used to git He jist gripped hard an' all alone He came up smilin'-good fer him! |