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We don't like the man who whines that the cards were stacked against him or that the umpire cheated. We admire the chap who, when he must take his medicine, takes it cheerfully, bravely. To play the game steadily is a merit, whether the game be a straight one or crooked. A thoroughbred, even though bad, has more of our respect than the craven who cleaves to the proprieties solely from fear to violate them. It has well been said: "The mistakes which make us men are better than the accuracies that keep us children."

ES, he went an' stole our steers,

So, of course, he had to die;

I ain't sheddin' any tears,
But, when I cash in-say, I
Want to take it like that guy—
Laughin', jokin', with the rest,
Not a whimper, not a cry,
Standin' up to meet the test

Till we swung him clear an' high,
With his face turned toward the west!

Here's the way it looks to me;
Cattle thief's no thing to be,
But if you take up that trade,
Be the best one ever made;
If you've got a thing to do

Do it strong an' SEE IT THROUGH!

That was him! He played the game,
Took his chances, bet his hand,
When at last the showdown came
An' he lost, he kept his sand;
Didn't weep an' didn't pray,
Didn't waver er repent,
Simply tossed his cards away,
Knowin' well just what it meant.

Never claimed the deck was stacked,
Never called the game a snide,
Acted like a man should act,

Took his medicine-an' died!

So I say it here again,

What I think is true of men;
They should try to do what's right,
Fair an' square an' clean an' white,
But, whatever is their line,
Bad er good er foul er fine,
Let 'em go the Limit, play

Like a plunger, that's the way!

From "Songs of the Workaday World,"
Copyright, 1915,

George H. Doran Co., Publishers.

Berton Braley.


There are some things we should all resolve to do. What are they? Any one may make a list for himself. It would be interesting to compare it with the one here given by the poet.

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To see to it I grow and gain and give!
Never to look behind me for an hour!

To wait in weakness, and to walk in power;
But always fronting onward to the light,
Always and always facing towards the right.
Robbed, starved, defeated, fallen, wide astray➡
On, with what strength I have!

Back to the way!

Charlotte Perkins Gilman,

From "In This Our World,"
Small, Maynard & Co.


Only melting and hammering can shape and temper steel for fine use. Only struggle and suffering can give a man the qualities that enable him to render large service to humanity. Lincoln was born in a log cabin. He split rails, and conned a few books by the firelight in the evening. He became a backwoods lawyer with apparently no advantages or encouraging prospects. But all the while he had his visions, which ever became nobler; and the adversities he knew but gave him the deeper sympathy for others and the wider and steadier outlook on human problems. Thus when the supreme need arose, Lincoln was ready-harsh-visaged nature had done its work of moulding and preparing a man.


HEN Nature wants to drill a man
And thrill a man,

And skill a man,

When Nature wants to mould a man
To play the noblest part;

When she yearns with all her heart
To create so great and bold a man
That all the world shall praise-
Watch her method, watch her ways!
How she ruthlessly perfects

Whom she royally elects;

How she hammers him and hurts him

And with mighty blows converts him

Into trial shapes of clay which only Nature understands

While his tortured heart is crying and he lifts
beseeching hands!—

How she bends, but never breaks,
When his good she undertakes
How she uses whom she chooses

And with every purpose fuses him,

By every art induces him

To try his splendor out

Nature knows what she's about.

When Nature wants to take a man

And shake a man

And wake a man;

When Nature wants to make a man

To do the Future's will;

When she tries with all her skill
And she yearns with all her soul
To create him large and whole
With what cunning she prepares him!
How she goads and never spares him,
How she whets him and she frets him
And in poverty begets him

How she often disappoints

Whom she sacredly anoints,

With what wisdom she will hide him,

Never minding what betide him

Though his genius sob with slighting and his pride may not forget!

Bids him struggle harder yet.
Makes him lonely

So that only

God's high messages shall reach him.
So that she may surely teach him
What the Hierarchy planned.
Though he may not understand
Gives him passions to command-
How remorselessly she spurs him,
With terrific ardor stirs him
When she poignantly prefers him!

When Nature wants to name a man
And fame a man

And tame a man;

When Nature wants to shame a man

To do his heavenly best

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When she tries the highest test

That her reckoning may bring-
When she wants a god or king!-

How she reins him and restrains him
So his body scarce contains him
While she fires him

And inspires him!

Keeps him yearning, ever burning for a tantalising goal

Lures and lacerates his soul.

Sets a challenge for his spirit,

Draws it higher when he's near it

Makes a jungle, that he clear it;
Makes a desert, that he fear it
And subdue it if he can-
So doth Nature make a man.
Then, to test his spirit's wrath
Hurls a mountain in his path-
Puts a bitter choice before him
And relentless stands o'er him.
"Climb, or perish!" so she says . .
Watch her purpose, watch her ways!

Nature's plan is wondrous kind
Could we understand her mind..
Fools are they who call her blind.
When his feet are torn and bleeding
Yet his spirit mounts unheeding,
All his higher powers speeding
Blazing newer paths and fine;
When the force that is divine

Leaps to challenge every failure and his ardor
still is sweet

And love and hope are burning in the presence

of defeat.

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Lo, the crisis! Lo, the shout
That must call the leader out.
When the people need salvation

Doth he come to lead the nation
Then doth Nature show her plan
When the world has found-a man!

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Angela Morgan.

From "Forward, March!"

The John Lane Co.

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