in others and given the best he had; whose life was an inspiration and whose memory a benediction.

Bessie A. Stanley.

A DEED AND A WORD

A little stream had lost its way
Amid the grass and fern;
A passing stranger scooped a well,
Where weary men might turn;
He walled it in, and hung with care
A ladle at the brink;
He thought not of the deed he did,
But judged that all might drink.
He passed again, and lo! the well,
By summer never dried,

Had cooled ten thousand parching tongues,
And saved a life beside.

A nameless man, amid a crowd

That thronged the daily mart,
Let fall a word of hope and love,
Unstudied, from the heart;
A whisper on the tumult thrown,
A transitory breath-

It raised a brother from the dust,
It saved a soul from death.

O germ! O fount! O word of love!
O thought at random cast!

Ye were but little at the first,

But mighty at the last.

Charles Mackay.

WAITING

Serene I fold my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
I rave no more 'gainst time and fate,
For lo! my own shall come to me.

I stay my haste, I make delays;
For what avails this eager pace?
I stand amid the eternal ways,

For what is mine shall know my face.

Asleep, awake, by night or day

The friends I seek are seeking me; No wind can drive my bark astray, Nor change the tide of destiny.

What matter if I stand alone?

I wait with joy the coming years; My heart shall reap where it has sown, And garner up its fruit of tears.

The waters know their own, and draw

The brook that springs in yonder heights.

So flows the good with equal law

Unto the soul of pure delights.

The stars come nightly to the sky,

The tidal wave unto the sea;

Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me.

By permission.

John Burroughs.

OUT IN THE FIELDS WITH GOD

The little cares that fretted me,
I lost them yesterday,
Among the fields, above the sea,
Among the winds at play;
Among the lowing of the herds,
The rustling of the trees,
Among the singing of the birds,
The humming of the bees.

The foolish fears of what may pass,
I cast them all away
Among the clover-scented grass,

Among the new-mown hay;
Among the rustling of the corn,

Where drowsy poppies nod,

Where ill thoughts die and good are born,

Out in the fields with God.

Author unknown.

IN DEGREE

Thy lordly genius blooms for all to see
On the clear heights of calm supremacy;
My humbler dower they only find who pass
With eyes that search for violets 'mid the grass.

Paul Hayne.

GAINING WINGS

A twig where clung two soft cocoons
I broke from a wayside spray,
And carried home to a quiet desk
Where, long forgot, it lay.

One morn I chanced to lift the lid,
And lo! as light as air,

A moth flew up on downy wings
And settled above my chair!

A dainty, beautiful thing it was,

Orange and silvery gray,

And I marvelled how from the withered bough Such fairy stole away.

Had the other flown? I turned to see,

And found it striving still

To free itself from the swathing floss

And rove the air at will.

"Poor little prisoned waif," I said,
"You shall not struggle more";

And tenderly I cut the threads,
And watched to see it soar.

Alas! a feeble chrysalis

It dropped from its silken bed; My help had been the direst harm

The pretty moth was dead!

2

I should have left it there to gain

The strength that struggle brings:

'T is stress and strain, with moth or man, That free the folded wings!

Edna Dean Proctor.

THE LIFE THAT COUNTS

The life that counts must toil and fight;
Must hate the wrong and love the right;
Must stand for truth, by day, by night-
This is the life that counts.

The life that counts must hopeful be;
In darkest night make melody;

Must wait the dawn on bended knee

This is the life that counts.

The life that counts must aim to rise

Above the earth to sunlit skies;
Must fix its gaze on Paradise-
This is the life that counts.

The life that counts must helpful be;
The cares and needs of others see;
Must seek the slaves of sin to free-

This is the life that counts.

The life that counts is linked with God;
And turns not from the cross-the rod;
But walks with joy where Jesus trod-

This is the life that counts.

A. W.S.