roud boast that any boy who is graduated at Girard
is able to take care of himself--he can do things that the world wants
done and is willing to pay for.

The boys are graduated at eighteen, which is the age that most students
who go to universities enter. But Girard boys, almost without exception,
go right into practical business, and Philadelphia merchants are not
slow to hire them. Girard College has a long honor-roll of noble men who
have succeeded beyond the average, helping themselves by adding to the
wealth and happiness of the world.

Great was the mariner and merchant who made these things possible!

MAYER A. ROTHSCHILD

It takes a great deal of boldness, mixed with a vast deal of
caution, to acquire a great fortune; but then it takes ten times as
much wit to keep it after you have got it as it took to make it.

--_Mayer A. Rothschild_

[Illustration: MAYER A. ROTHSCHILD]

That the Jews are a joyous people and find much sweet solace in their
sorrowful religion is proven by one fact too obvious to be
overlooked--they reproduce.

Children are born of love and joy. The sorrows of Jewry are more
apparent than real. After every Black Fast, when the congregations used
to sit shoeless on the stone floors of the synagogues, weeping and
wailing on account of the destruction of Jerusalem, the youngsters, and
the grown-ups as well, were counting the hours before the Feast of
Pentecost would begin.

The sorrow over the loss of things destroyed a thousand years or so ago
is reduced by the lapse of years to rather a pleasant emotional
exercise.

Fasts were followed by feasts, also pro and con, as Mrs. Malaprop would
say; so that in the home of an orthodox Jewish family there was always
something doing. Fasts, feasts, flowers, sweetmeats, lights, candles,
little journeys, visits, calls, dances, prayers, responses, wails, cries
of exultation, shouts of triumph--"Rejoicing of the Law"--these
prevented monotony, stagnation and introspection.

And these are the things which have pressed their influences upon the
Jew until the fume and reek of the Ghetto, the bubble and squeak of the
rabble, and the babble of bazaars are more acceptable to him than the
breeze blowing across silent mesa and prairie, or the low, moaning
lullaby of lonely pine-forests.

The Jew is no hermit--if anything is going on, he is literally and
poetically in it.

The sen