is was strong as wool--
It always come at de hardest pull.
We need mo' mules with brains on guard
Dat knos de game of pullin' hard,
An' a heart dat's tender, true and stout,
Dat believes all day in helpin' out.

We's all des human, des common clay,
Des needs a little help to make work play.
I'se read a lot of philosophy day an' night,
An' worked around a heap wid de law of right.
I'se seen de high an' mighty come an' go,
I'se seen de simple spirit come from below;
An' I'se seen a lot of principle most folks miss--
I'se not a-stretchin' truth when I say dis:
"Keep a-smilin' an' a-lovin' an a-doin' all yo' can,
Fo' yo' loses all yo' trouble when yo' help yo' fellow man;
An' you gits on best yo'self, an' of this dey ain't no doubt,
When yo' practise de art of always helpin' out."

_William Judson Kibby._

OPENING PARADISE

We appreciate even the common things of life if we are denied them.

See the wretch, that long has tost
On the thorny bed of Pain,
At length repair his vigor lost,
And breathe and walk again:
The meanest flow'r'et of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common Sun, the air, and skies,
To him are opening Paradise.

_Thomas Gray._

TO THE MEN WHO LOSE

When Captain Scott's ill-fated band, after reaching the South Pole, was
struggling through the cold and storms back towards safety, the strength
of Evans, one of the men, became exhausted. He had done his best--vainly.
Now he did not wish to imperil his companions, already sorely tried. At
a halting-place, therefore, he left them and, staggering out into a
blizzard, perished alone. It was a failure, yes; but was it not also
magnificent success?

Here's to the men who lose!
What though their work be e'er so nobly planned,
And watched with zealous care,
No glorious halo crowns their efforts grand,
Contempt is failure's share.

Here's to the men who lose!
If triumph's easy smile our struggles greet,
Courage is easy then;
The king is he who, after fierce defeat,
Can up and fight again.

Here's to the men who lose!
The ready plaudits of a fawning world
Ring sweet in victor's ears;
The vanquished's banners never are unfurled--
For them there sound no cheers.

Here's to the men who lose!
The touchstone of true worth is not success;
There is a higher test--
Though fate