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In our youth we picture ourselves as we will be in the futurenot mere types of this or that kind of success, but above all and in all, Ideal Men. Then come the years and the struggles, and we are buffeted and baffled, and our very ideal is eclipsed. But others have done better than we. Weary and harassed, they yet embody our visions. And we, if we are worth our salt, do not envy them when we see them. Nor should we grow dispirited. Rather should we rejoice in their triumph, rejoice that our dreams were not impossibilities, take courage to strive afresh for that which we know is best.
KNEW his face the moment that he passed
Triumphant in the thoughtless, cruel throng,-
Showed that his soul had suffered overlong.
Where I had failed, he'd won from life, Success;
Where I had stumbled, with sure feet he stood;
Alike-yet unalike-we faced the world,
And through the stress he found that life was good. And I? The bitter wormwood in the glass,
The shadowed way along which failures pass!
Yet as I saw him thus, joy came to me
He was the Man that Once I Meant to Be!
I knew him! And I knew he knew me for
We did not speak. But in his sapient eyes
I saw the spirit that had urged him on,
Had once been mine, I thought, "Can it be gone?”
His pale lips formed the one-word answer, "No!”
Too late to win? No! Not too late for me-
From "The Quiet Courage,"
Stewart & Kidd Co., Cincinnati, Ohio.
Everard Jack Appleton.
THE JOY OF LIVING
Men too often act as if life were nothing more than hardships to be endured and difficulties to be overcome. They look upon what is happy or inspiring with eyes that really fail to see. As Wordsworth says of Peter Bell,
"A primrose by the river's brim
But to stop now and then and realize that the world is fresh and buoyant and happy, will do much to keep the spirit young. We should be glad that we are alive, should tell ourselves often in the words of Charles Lamb: "I am in love with this green earth.”
HE south wind is driving
His splendid cloud-horses
THERE WILL ALWAYS BE SOMETHING TO DO
An old lady, famous for her ability to find in other people traits that she could commend, was challenged to say a good word for the devil. After a moment's hesitation she answered, "You must at least give him credit for being industrious." Perhaps it is this superactivity of Satan that causes beings less wickedly inclined to have such scope for the exercise of their qualities. Certain it is that nobody need hang back from want of something to do, to promote, to assail, to protect, to endure, or to sympathize with.
HERE will always be something to do, my boy;
There will always be need for a manly breed
And men unafraid to fight.
There will always be honor to guard, my boy;
And tasks to do, and battles new
From now till the end of time.
There will always be dangers to face, my boy;
Men shall be tried, when the roads divide,
There will always be burdens to bear, my boy;
There will always be need to pray;
There will always be tears through the future years, As loved ones are borne away.
There will always be God to serve, my boy,
And always the Flag above;
They shall call to you until life is through
So these are things that I dream, my boy,
From "The Path_to_Home,"
The Reilly & Lee Co.
Edgar A. Guest.
Thinking you would like a square meal will not in itself earn you one. Thinking you would like a strong body will not without effort on your part make you an athlete. Thinking you would like to be kind or successful will not bring you gentleness or achievement if you stop with mere thinking. The arrows of intention must have the bow of strong purpose to impel them.
HE road to hell, they assure me,
And I know my desires are noble,
I've met few men who are monsters
Intentions may still leave us beast-like;
St. Clair Adams.
PHILOSOPHY FOR CROAKERS
Many people seem to get pleasure in seeing all the bad there is, and in making everything about them gloomy. They are like the old woman who on being asked how her health was, replied: "Thank the Lord, I'm poorly."
OME folks git a heap o' pleasure
Out o' lookin' glum;
Hoard their cares like it was treasure-
Now there ain't no use of whinin',
Weightin' joy with lead;
Can't enjoy the sun to-day
It may rain to-morrow;
If there's good news to be heard,
Good is all forgotten.
When upon a peel I stand,
Luck, I trust, will shake my hand
Keep a scarecrow in the yard,