FAMILY FINANCIERING "They tell me you work for a dollar a day; "I know you will think it conceited and queer, But I do it because I'm a good financier. "There's Pete, John, Jim, and Joe and William and Ned, A half-dozen boys to be clothed up and fed. "And I buy for them all good plain victuals to eat, And clothing-I only buy clothing for Pete. "When Pete's clothes are too small for him to go on, My wife makes 'em over and gives them to John. "When for John, who is ten, they have grown out of date, She justs makes 'em over for Jim, who is eight. "When for Jim they become too ragged to fix, She just makes 'em over for Joe, who is six. "And when little Joseph can't wear them no more, She just makes 'em over for Bill, who is four. "And when for young Bill they no longer will do, She just makes 'em over for Ned, who is two. "So you see, if I get enough clothing for Pete, The family is furnished with clothing complete." 'But when Ned gets through with the clothing, and when He has thrown it aside, what do you do with it then?" "Why, once more we go around the circle complete, And begin to use it for patches for Pete." Anon. BETWEEN THE LIGHTS Dear heart, come closer, while the light I would not have you sorrow so, That one of us, alone, will go From out the light thro' death's dark gate. For life at best is all too short When measured by a love like ours, And death is but an open port To broader fields and fairer flowers. So, while the twilight shades troop past, Selected. THE AVERAGE MAN When it comes to a question of trusting In the hour you meet as you can, 'Tis the average man and no other So on through the days of existence, But who wears the swart grime of his calling, And stands at the last with the noblest,- By permission. Margaret E. Sangster. EACH IN HIS OWN TONGUE A fire-mist and a planet, A crystal and a cell, A jelly-fish and a saurian, And caves where the cave-men dwell; Then a sense of law and beauty, And a face turned from the clod,Some call it Evolution, And others call it God. A haze on the far horizon, The infinite, tender sky, The ripe, rich tint of the cornfields, And others call it God. Like tides on a crescent sea-beach, Into our hearts high yearnings A picket frozen on duty, A mother starved for her brood, Socrates drinking the hemlock, And Jesus on the rood; And millions who, humble and nameless, The straight, hard pathway plod,— And others call it God. Copyright, G. P. Putnam's Sons. By permission. W. H. Carruth. A DAILY MOTTO Verses sent Miss Frances Willard by a devoted friend. It's curious whut a sight o' good a little thing will do; How ye kin stop the fiercest storm when it begins to brew, An' take the sting from whut commenced to rankle when 'twas spoke, By keepin' still and treatin' it as if it wus a joke; Ye'll find that ye kin fill a place with smiles instead o' tears, An' keep the sunshine gleamin' through the shadows of the years, By jes' laughin'. Folks sometimes fails ter note the possibilities that lie In the way yer mouth is curvin' an' the twinkle in yer eye: It ain't so much whut's said that hurts ez what ye think lies hid. It ain't so much the doin' ez the way a thing is did. An' many a home's kep' happy an' contented, day by day, An' like ez not a kingdom hez been rescued from decay By jes' laughin'. |