others, and every church has its
share of hypocrites--mine the same as others. But God and the church
remain just the same." There are some don'ts I would call to your
attention. One of them is, don't try to get rich too quickly by grasping
every bait thrown out to the unwary. I have been in the society of the
fellows who tried to get rich quickly for the past twenty-five years, and
for the most part they are a poor lot. I do not know but that I would
reverse Milton's lines so as to read:

'Tis better to sit with a fool in Paradise
Than some of those wise ones in prison.

Don't resort to idleness. The boy who wears out the seat of his trousers
holding down dry-goods boxes on the street corners will never be president
of the United States. The farmer who drives to town for pleasure several
days in the week will soon have his farm advertised for sale. An idle man
is sure to go into the hands of a receiver. My friends, glorious
opportunities are before us, with the republic's free institutions at your
command. Science and knowledge have unlocked their vaults wherein poverty
and wealth are not classified--a fitting theater where the master mind
shall play the leading role.

And now, with your permission, I will close with a bit of verse from Reno,
the famous poet-scout. His lines are the embodiment of human nature as it
should be, and to me they are a sort of creed. He says:

I never like to see a man a-wrestling with the dumps,
'Cause in the game of life he doesn't always catch the trumps,
But I can always cotton to a free-and-easy cuss
As takes his dose and thanks the Lord it wasn't any wuss.
There ain't no use of swearin' and cussin' at your luck,
'Cause you can't correct your troubles more than you can drown a
duck.
Remember that when beneath the load your suffering head is bowed
That God will sprinkle sunshine in the trail of every cloud.
If you should see a fellow man with trouble's flag unfurled,
And lookin' like he didn't have a friend in all the world,
Go up and slap him on the back and holler, "How'd you do?"
And grasp his hand so warm he'll know he has a friend in you,
An' ask him what's a-hurtin' him, and laugh his cares away,
An' tell him that the darkest hour is just before the day.
Don't talk in graveyard palaver, but say it right out loud,
That God will sprinkle sunshine in the trail of every cloud.