And I stand in the power and the presence of God;
And on through the ages no glory shall seem
Half so sweet as the love of my Dream,--of my Dream!

The Frying Pan.

"With all your talk about necessary house-hold implements," said Sooner
Dave, "none of 'em is in it with the frying pan,--just the common,
ordinary, every-day frying pan, that you chuck under your buck-board or
tie to your saddle-horn. These parlor ornaments, side-boards,
new-fangled stoves, potato-mashers, coffee-strainers and all the
everlasting tribe of culinary jim-cracks have to turn out of the trail
for the frying pan and give it the right of way.

"With the frying pan for his companion, the civilized idiot is at home
any where,--prairie or woods, creek bank or deer-lick or prairie-chicken
trysting place. With a frying pan and some bacon fat, home is never far
away, and a full meal is so near that heaven comes close to the hungry
man. It has fought more battles, made more forced marches and won more
victories than Napoleon. It has surveyed lands, bunched cattle and
soonered claims. It has done all the pioneering for the frontiers-man.
In this one divine utensil, the wanderer fries his meat, bakes his
flap-jacks and brews his coffee; and as they all come steaming from
its exalted circumference of life-sustaining food, what chafing-dish or
modern steam-cooker was ever waited on by such a willing appetite?

"When I die," continued Sooner Dave, "I want a frying pan chiseled on my
tomb-stone; for it has been the sole companion of the truest happiness I
have known in this world. And if over in the next world there is a
chance to choose one's crown after the style and finish the wearer may
desire, I am going to take my faithful old frying pan along and wear it
for a few thousand years just to show the angels how much a man can
appreciate good things!"

The Quest.

What matters bog or bramble of delay,--
The mountain slope or shore of ocean reeds?
Pursue thy goal! Thy feet shall find the way
Unerringly where thy One Vision leads!

To the World!

I.

To the world! To the world! Let us carol its song,
Let us conquer its grief and the wrath of its wrong,
Till the lilt of its laughter shall sweeten the sod
With the joys of the skies and the gladness of God!

II.

To the world! To the world! Where the gleam hides the gloom
And the lilies of love on the battle-fields bloom,--
Wher