turn from mere
toleration of other people to a spirit of service and universal
brotherhood. Love of our fellow men--has humanity reached any height
superior to this?

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:--
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
"What writest thou?"--The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerily still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

_Leigh Hunt._

THIS WORLD

There is good in life and there is ill. The question is where we should
put the emphasis.

This world that we're a-livin' in
Is mighty hard to beat;
You git a thorn with every rose,
But _ain't _the roses _sweet_!

_Frank L. Stanton._

From "The Atlanta Constitution."

GRAY DAYS

By reckoning up the odds against us and ignoring the forces in our
favor, we may indeed close the door of hope. But why not take matters
the other way about? Why not see the situation clearly and then throw
our own strong purpose in the scales? In the course of a battle an
officer reported to Stonewall Jackson that he must fall back because his
ammunition had been spoiled by a rainstorm. "So has the enemy's," was
the instant reply. "Give them the bayonet." This resolute spirit won the
battle.

Hang the gray days!
The deuce-to-pay days!
The feeling-blue and nothing-to-do days!
The sit-by-yourself-for-there's-nothing-new days!
When the cat that Care killed without excuse
With your inner self's crying, "Oh, what's the use?"
And you wonder whatever is going to become of you,
And you feel that a cipher expresses the sum of you;
And you know that you'll never,
Oh, never, be clever,
Spite of all your endeavor
Or hard work or whatever!
Oh, gee!
What a mix-up you see
When you look at the world where you happen to be!
Where strangers are hateful and