DAYS DO

A real man does not want all his barriers leveled. He of course welcomes
easy tasks, but he welcomes hard ones also. The difficult or unpleasant
thing puts him on his mettle, throws him on his own resources. It gives
him something of

"The stern joy which warriors feel
In foemen worthy of their steel."

Moreover as a foil or contrast it enables him to value more truly the
good things he constantly enjoys, perhaps without perceiving them.

I sorter like a gloomy day,
Th' kind that jest _won't_ smile;
It makes a feller hump hisself
T' make life seem wuth while.
When sun's a-shinin' an' th' sky
Is washed out bright an' gay,
It ain't no job to whistle--but
It is--
When skies air gray!

So gloomy days air good fer us,
They make us look about
To find our blessin's--make us count
The friends who never doubt,
Most any one kin smile and joke
And hold blue-devils back
When it is bright, but we must work
T' grin--
When skies air black!

That's why I sorter _like_ dark days,
That put it up to me
To keep th' gloom from soakin' in
My whole anatomy!
An' if they _never_ come along
My soul would surely rust--
Th' dark days keeps my cheerfulness
From draggin'
In th' dust!

_Everard Jack Appleton._

From "The Quiet Courage."

GLADNESS

A coal miner does not need the sun's illumination. He carries his own
light.

The world has brought not anything
To make me glad to-day!
The swallow had a broken wing,
And after all my journeying
There was no water in the spring--
My friend has said me nay.
But yet somehow I needs must sing
As on a luckier day.

Dusk fails as gray as any tear,
There is no hope in sight!
But something in me seems so fair,
That like a star I needs must wear
A safety made of shining air
Between me and the night.
Such inner weavings do I wear
All fashioned of delight!

I need not for these robes of mine
The loveliness of earth,
But happenings remote and fine
Like threads of dreams will blow and shine
In gossamer and crystalline,
And I was glad from birth.
So even while my eyes repine,
My heart is clothed in mirth.

_Anna Hempstead Branch._

From "The Shoes That Danced, and Other Poems."

IT WON'T STAY BLOWED

It is easier to fail than succeed. It is easier to drift downstream than
up. Bu