And--think of it!--
The glee of little children.
Still he pressed on, wrought,
Sowed, reaped, builded.

His smile ever ready,
His perplexed soul lighted
With the radiance
Of an unquenchable optimism,
God's presence visualized,
He has risen, step by step.
To the majesty of the home builder,
Useful citizen,
Student, teacher,
Unwavering patriot.

This of the Other Fellow.
What of you, his judges and his patrons?

If it has been your wont
In your treatment of him
Not to reflect,
Or to stand by in idle unconcern
While, panting on his belly,
Ambushed by booted ruffianism,
He lapped in sublime resignation
The bitter waters
Of unreasoning intolerance,
Has not the hour of his deliverance,
Of your escape from your "other selves"
Struck?

If you have erred,
Will you refuse to know it?

Has not the time arrived
To discriminate between
Those who lower
Those who raise him?

You are shamed by your abortions,
Your moral half growths
Who flee God's eye
And stain his green earth,
But you are not judged by yours;
Should he be judged by his?

In his special case--if so, why?
Is manhood a myth,
Womanhood a toy,
Integrity unbelievable,
Honor a chimera?

Should not his boys and girls,
Mastering the curriculum of the schools,
Pricked on to attainment by the lure
Of honorable achievement,
Be given bread and not a stone
When seeking employment
In the labor mart,
At the factory gate
Or the office door?

Broadened by the spirit of the golden rule,
Will you not grant these children of Hagar
An even break?

Is the day not here, O judges,
When the Other Fellow
May be measured in fairness,
Just fairness?

* * * * *

It is written men may rise
"On their dead selves to higher things;"
But can it be that this clear note of cheer
To sodden men and smitten races
Was meant for all save him?

Chants an immortal:
"He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."

CHAPTER XXXII.

AN INTERPOLATION.

HELD BY DISTINGUISHED THINKERS AND WRITERS, THAT THE