er boy and a day laborer;
Ben Jonson was a bricklayer; Livingstone, the traveler and explorer,
was a weaver; Abraham Lincoln was a "rail-splitter" and a farmer boy.

At the plow, on the bench, at the loom, these men dreamed of the
future greatness, and step by step, day by day, they persevered until
they won the full measure of success.

The great and good women of the world have won their distinction in
the same manner. They cultivated the sterling qualities that made for
success. They acquired the manners that attracted toward them help and
strength of others interested in good causes and those struggling to
advance them.

And the girl who is reading these lines, can, if she will, make her
life a happy success. She may be praised by the world or it may be by
the small circle of friends with whom she comes in contact. Her name
may never be written in history but it may be fondly spoken by
parents, sisters, brothers, schoolmates, friends. In a thousand
gracious ways she can make the hours, days and years good and golden
for her own precious self and for all who know her. She must be
thoughtful and intelligently alert to the opportunities lying all
about her ready to be fashioned into shining deeds. She must know that
she is a precious craft on the sea of life and that she must not be
permitted to drift from the harbor of youth and of home without a life
pilot. And this pilot should be her own conscience, hedged about with
the learning, the good breeding, the fine character that she herself,
under proper guidance, must cultivate through the impressionable years
of childhood and maidenhood. If she so wills it, beauty and grace and
true worth are all hers. And let her greet and go forth in the
freshness of each golden day, as indeed, she must greet life, itself,
with a glad, hopeful, helpful

MORNING PRAYER

Oh, may I be strong and brave, to-day,
And may I be kind and true,
And greet all men in a gracious way,
With frank good cheer in the things I say,
And love in the deeds I do.

May the simple heart of a child be mine,
And the grace of a rose in bloom;
Let me fill the day with a hope divine
And turn my face to the sky's glad shine,
With never a cloud of gloom.

With the golden levers of love and light
I would lift the world, and when,
Through a path with kindly deeds made bright,
I come to the calm of the starlit night,