. This can be done only by
having a purpose in life strong enough to resist alluring temptations
to fritter away both time and strength.

One of the world's busy workers found that the distractions of urban
life were breaking in upon his working time and making inroads upon
his physical vitality. He recognized that work for the body and work
for the mind must be balanced, and he evolved an acrostic to be
followed as a rule of life, the fulfillment of which has meant
prolonged years of efficient work and has kept the freshness of middle
life with the advancing years. Taking the six days of the week as a
unit, the acrostic is as follows:

_The Feast of Life_

F Food One-tenth the time
E Exercise One-tenth the time
A Amusement One-tenth the time
S Sleep Three-tenths the time
T Task Four-tenths the time

The first and last are nearly fixed quantities, the other three may
vary within certain limits as to amount of time given and intensity of
effort. Amusement and exercise may be taken together; exercise and
sleep may be somewhat interchangeable.

The task, or daily work, is a necessity for mental and physical
health. It should be accepted as a part of human life and the will and
energy should be directed to doing it well. It may be a pure delight,
the most entertaining thing that happens; _it should be interesting_.
It is astonishing how interesting a dull piece of work may become if
one sets one's self to doing it well. That which one subconsciously
knows one is doing badly is drudgery. The real pleasure in life comes
not from so-called amusements--things done by other people to make
one laugh; to "take one's mind off"--but from seeing the work of one's
own hand and brain prosper. The work of creation, of transformation to
desirable result, is the purest joy the human mind can experience.
Fourteen hours a day is not too much for this kind of task. The
difficulty is to gain skill of hand and eye, or training of mind, to
this end. A fallacy, a canker at the heart of our social fabric today,
is that the daily task is something to be rid of.

The psychology of doing is clearly illustrated in the character of
Fool Billy, as drawn by the author of "Priscilla of the Good Intent."

"Is there nought ye like better than idleness?" asked the blacksmith.
"Think now, Billy--just ponder over it."

"Well, now," answered the other, after a silence, "there's
playin