ngs be on exhibition. I find
it now the easier, and by far the better, way. Cheerfulness is a habit;
get the habit. It depends upon you, not upon your circumstances. You can
rule your circumstances instead of letting them rule you. Take hold of
your bad feelings with a will and conquer them with cheerfulness. The task
may not be easy at first, but keep at it and you will win. Do not despair
if you lose a few battles. You may have cultivated gloom for so long a
time that it has become the fixed state of your mind. Overcome the habit.
God will help you. When your feelings become gloomy, say, "I will not be
so," and force your mind into other channels. It will want to go back to
its former habit, but as often as you catch yourself thinking along gloomy
lines turn your thoughts back to the sunshine. Put good cheer into your
voice and a smile on your face, no matter how you feel. It will prove a
tonic for soul, mind, and body. Listen to the redbird. Hear his merry
"Cheer up, cheer up," and act upon his advice. You will find it worth
while.
TALK EIGHTEEN. WHAT OLD BILL COULD NOT DO
Old Bill M-- was a drunkard. Everybody knew it. People expected to see him
stagger as he walked; that was the common thing. As a young man he had
been the leader among his chums, and people thought he would make his mark
in the world. He had excelled most of his companions, but alas! it was not
in the things that make men noble and great. As people said, "The drink
was getting him." He was a familiar figure in each of the three saloons in
A--. He was popular, for he was good-natured and jolly. He was still the
leader of a company, who called themselves the "bunch." Each night they
made the rounds of the saloons, then at a late hour staggered homeward.
Yes, Old Bill was a drunkard. He had tried many times to quit. His friends
had warned him and advised him to quit. His wife had begged him a hundred
times, with tears running down her face. He had promised again and again,
had tried, over and over, to master the habit, but it held him fast. One
night when he went home, drunk as usual, he found his wife seriously ill.
Three days he watched by her bedside, and then the end came. In her dying
hour she laid her hand on his and asked him once more for her sake, and
his own, to quit drinking. Bill promised with hot tears falling like rain,
and he meant it with all his heart.
Two days later he followed her body to the church, and as he took h
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