Nine hundred and ninety-nine depend
on what the world sees in you,
But the Thousandth Man will stand your friend
With the whole round world agin you.

'Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show
Will settle the finding for 'ee.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em go
By your looks or your acts or your glory.
But if he finds you and you find him,
The rest of the world don't matter;
For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim
With you in any water.

You can use his purse with no more shame
Than he uses yours for his spendings;
And laugh and mention it just the same
As though there had been no lendings.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em call
For silver and gold in their dealings;
But the Thousandth Man he's worth 'em all,
Because you can show him your feelings!

His wrong's your wrong, and his right's your right,
In season or out of season.
Stand up and back it in all men's sight--
With that for your only reason!
Nine hundred and ninety-nine can't bide
The shame or mocking or laughter,
But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side
To the gallows-foot--and after!

Simple Simon

Cattiwow came down the steep lane with his five-horse timber-tug. He
stopped by the wood-lump at the back gate to take off the brakes. His
real name was Brabon, but the first time the children met him, years and
years ago, he told them he was 'carting wood,' and it sounded so exactly
like 'cattiwow' that they never called him anything else.

'HI!' Una shouted from the top of the wood-lump, where they had been
watching the lane. 'What are you doing? Why weren't we told?'

'They've just sent for me,' Cattiwow answered. 'There's a middlin' big
log stacked in the dirt at Rabbit Shaw, and'--he flicked his whip back
along the line--'so they've sent for us all.'

Dan and Una threw themselves off the wood-lump almost under black
Sailor's nose. Cattiwow never let them ride the big beam that makes
the body of the timber-tug, but they hung on behind while their teeth
thuttered.

The Wood road beyond the brook climbs at once into the woods, and you
see all the horses' backs rising, one above another, like moving stairs.
Cattiwow strode ahead in his sackcloth woodman's petticoat, belted at
the waist with a leather strap; and when he turned and grinned, his red
lips showed un