down and out, and his pluck was gone,
And he said to me in a gloomy way:
"I've wasted my chances, one by one,
And I'm just no good, as the people say.
Nothing ahead, and my dreams all dust,
Though once there was something I might have been,
But I wasn't game, and I broke my trust,
And I wasn't straight and I wasn't clean."

"You're pretty low down," says I to him,
"But nobody's holding you there, my friend.
Life is a stream where men sink or swim,
And the drifters come to a sorry end;
But there's two of you living and breathing still--
The fellow you are, and he's tough to see,
And another chap, if you've got the will,
The man that you still have a chance to be."

He laughed with scorn. "Is there two of me?
I thought I'd murdered the other one.
I once knew a chap that I hoped to be,
And he was decent, but now he's gone."
"Well," says I, "it may seem to you
That life has little of joy in store,
But there's always something you still can do,
And there's never a man but can try once more.

[Illustration: _"His Other Chance"_

_From a drawing by_ W. T. BENDA.]

"There are always two to the end of time--
The fellow we are and the future man.
The Lord never meant you should cease to climb,
And you can get up if you think you can.
The fellow you are is a sorry sight,
But you needn't go drifting out to sea.
Get hold of yourself and travel right;
There's a fellow you've still got a chance to be."

THE FAMILY DOCTOR

I've tried the high-toned specialists, who doctor folks to-day;
I've heard the throat man whisper low "Come on now let us spray";
I've sat in fancy offices and waited long my turn,
And paid for fifteen minutes what it took a week to earn;
But while these scientific men are kindly, one and all,
I miss the good old doctor that my mother used to call.

The old-time family doctor! Oh, I am sorry that he's gone,
He ushered us into the world and knew us every one;
He didn't have to ask a lot of questions, for he knew
Our histories from birth and all the ailments we'd been through.
And though as children small we feared the medicines he'd send,
The old-time family doctor grew to be our dearest friend.

No hour too late, no night too rough for him to heed our call;
He knew exactly where to hang his coat up in the hall;
He knew exactly where to go, which room upstairs to find
The patient he'd been called to see, and saying: "Never mind,
I'll run up there myself an