mer Boy who lay
With his face to the foe, 'neath the enemy's guns, in the charge of
that terrible day;
And I say that the land that bears such sons is crowned and dowered
with all
The dear God giveth nations to stay them lest they fall.

Oh, glory of Mission Ridge, stream on, like the roseate light of morn,
On the sons that now are living, on the sons that are yet unborn!
And cheers for our comrades living, and tears as they pass away!
And three times three for the Drummer Boy who fought at the front that
day!

If--

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream and not make dreams your master;
If you can think and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch and toss.
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

_Rudyard Kipling._

Second Table

Some boys are mad when comp'ny comes to stay for meals. They hate
To have the other people eat while boys must wait and wait,
But I've about made up my mind I'm different from the rest,
For as for me, I b'lieve I like the second table best.

To eat along with comp'ny is so trying, for it's tough
To sit and watch the victuals when you dassent touch the st