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If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Reprinted by permission of Mr. Rudyard Kipling,
Copyright 1892 and 1910 by Rudyard Kipling,
Triumph in spirit over adverse conditions is the keynote of this poem of courage undismayed. It rings with the power of the individual to guide his own destiny.
UT of the night that covers me,
I thank whatever gods may be
In the fell clutch of circumstance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
It matters not how strait the gate,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
William Ernest Henley.
IT COULDN'T BE DONE
After a thing has been done, everybody is ready to declare it easy. But before it has been done, it is called impossible. One reason why people fear to embark upon great enterprises is that they see all the difficulties at once. They know they could succeed in the initial tasks, but they shrink from what is to follow. Yet "a thing begun is half done." Moreover the surmounting of the first barrier gives strength and ingenuity for the harder ones beyond. Mountains viewed from a distance seem to be unscalable. But they can be climbed, and the way to begin is to take the first upward step. From that moment the mountains are less high. As Hannibal led his army across the foothills, then among the upper ranges, and finally over the loftiest peaks and passes of the Alps, or as Peary pushed farther and farther into the solitudes that encompass the North Pole, so can you achieve any purpose whatsoever if you heed not the doubters, meet each problem as it arises, and keep ever with you the assurance It Can Be Done.
OMEBODY said that it couldn't be done,
That "maybe it couldn't," but he would be one
Somebody scoffed: "Oh, you'll never do that;
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
From "The Path to Home,"
The Reilly & Lee Co.
Edgar A. Guest.
THE WELCOME MAN
HERE'S a man in the world who is never turned
down, wherever he chances to stray; he gets the glad hand in the populous town, or out where the farmers make hay; he's greeted with pleasure on deserts of sand, and deep in the aisles of the woods; wherever he goes there's the welcoming hand-he's The Man Who Delivers the Goods. The failures of life sit around and complain; the gods haven't treated them white; they've lost their umbrellas whenever there's rain, and they haven't their lanterns at night; men tire of the failures who fill with their sighs the air of their own neighborhoods; there's one who is greeted with love-lighted eyes -he's The Man Who Delivers the Goods. One fellow is lazy, and watches the clock, and waits for the whistle to blow; and one has a hammer, with which he will knock, and one tells a story of woe; and one, if requested to travel a mile, will measure the perches and roods; but one does his stunt with a whistle or smilehe's The Man Who Delivers the Goods. One man is afraid that he'll labor too hard-the world isn't yearning for such; and one man is always alert, on his guard, lest he put in a minute too much; and one has a grouch or a temper that's bad, and one is a creature of moods; so it's hey for the joyous and rollicking lad—for the One Who Delivers the Goods!
From "Walt Mason, His Book,"
In the famous naval duel between the Bonhomme Richard and the Serapis, John Paul Jones was hailed by his adversary to know whether he struck his colors. "I have not yet begun to fight," was his answer. When the surrender took place, it was not Jones's ship that became the prize of war. Everybody admires a hard fighter-the man who takes buffets standing up, and in a spirit of "Never say die" is always ready for more.
HEN you're lost in the wild and you're scared
WHEas a child,
And death looks you bang in the eye;
And you're sore as a boil, it's according to Hoyle
But the code of a man says fight all you can,
In hunger and woe, oh it's easy to blow
It's the hell served for breakfast that's hard.
You're sick of the game? Well now, that's a shame!
It's the plugging away that will win you the day,
Just draw on your grit; it's so easy to quit-
It's easy to cry that you're beaten and die,
But to fight and to fight when hope's out of sight,
And though you come out of each grueling bout,
Just have one more try. It's dead easy to die,
Robert W. Service.
From "Rhymes of a Rolling Stone,"
FRIENDS OF MINE
We like to be hospitable. To what should we be more hos pitable than a glad spirit or a kind impulse?
OOD-MORNING, Brother Sunshine,
I beg your humble pardon
Good-morning, Brother Gladness,
Good-morning, Brother Kindness,
I heard you were out calling,
When you are my companions,
From "The Voices of Song,"
James W. Foley.