his colors. "I have not yet begun to fight," was his answer. When the surrender took place, it was not Jones's ship that became the prize of war. Everybody admires a hard fighter--the man who takes buffets standing up, and in a spirit of "Never say die" is always ready for more.
When you're lost in the wild and you're scared as a child, And death looks you bang in the eye;?And you're sore as a boil, it's according to Hoyle?To cock your revolver and die.?But the code of a man says fight all you can,?And self-dissolution is barred;?In hunger and woe, oh it's easy to blow--?It's the hell served for breakfast that's hard.
You're sick of the game? Well now, that's a shame!?You're young and you're brave and you're bright.?You've had a raw deal, I know, but don't squeal.?Buck up, do your damnedest and fight!?It's the plugging away that will win you the day,?So don't be a piker, old pard;?Just draw on your grit; it's so easy to quit--?It's the keeping your chin up that's hard.
It's easy to cry that you're beaten and die,?It's easy to crawfish and crawl,?But to fight and to fight when hope's out of sight,?Why, that's the best game of them all.?And though you come out of each grueling bout,?All broken and beaten and scarred--?Just have one more try. It's dead easy to die,?It's the keeping on living that's hard.
Robert W. Service.
From "Rhymes of a Rolling Stone."
[Illustration: ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE]
FRIENDS OF MINE
We like to be hospitable. To what should we be more hospitable than a glad spirit or a kind impulse?
Good-morning, Brother Sunshine,?Good-morning, Sister Song,?I beg your humble pardon?If you've waited very long.?I thought I heard you rapping,?To shut you out were sin,?My heart is standing open,?Won't you?walk?right?in?
Good-morning, Brother Gladness,?Good-morning, Sister Smile,?They told me you were coming,?So I waited on a while.?I'm lonesome here without you,?A weary while it's been,?My heart is standing open,?Won't you?walk?right?in?
Good-morning, Brother Kindness,?Good-morning, Sister Cheer,?I heard you were out calling,?So I waited for you here.?Some way, I keep forgetting?I have to toil or spin?When you are my companions,?Won't you?walk?right?in?
James W. Foley.
From "The Voices of Song."
THE WOMAN WHO UNDERSTANDS
"Is this the little woman that made this great war?" was Lincoln's greeting to Harriet Beecher Stowe. Often a woman is responsible for events by whose crash and splendor she herself is obscured. Often too she shapes the career of husband or brother or son. A man succeeds and reaps the honors of public applause, when in truth a quiet little woman has made it all possible--has by her tact and encouragement held him to his best, has had faith in him when his own faith has languished, has cheered him with the unfailing assurance, "You can, you must, you will."
_Somewhere she waits to make you win, your soul in her firm, white hands-- Somewhere the gods have made for you, the Woman Who Understands!_
As the tide went out she found him?Lashed to a spar of Despair,?The wreck of his Ship around him--?The wreck of his Dreams in the air;?Found him and loved him and gathered?The soul of him close to her heart--?The soul that had sailed an uncharted sea,?The soul that had sought to win and be free--?The soul of which she was part!?And there in the dusk she cried to the man,?"Win your battle--you can, you can!"
Broken by Fate, unrelenting,?Scarred by the lashings of Chance;?Bitter his heart--unrepenting--?Hardened by Circumstance;?Shadowed by Failure ever,?Cursing, he would have died,?But the touch of her hand, her strong warm hand,?And her love of his soul, took full command,?Just at the turn of the tide!?Standing beside him, filled with trust,?"Win!" she whispered, "you must, you must!"
Helping and loving and guiding,?Urging when that were best,?Holding her fears in hiding?Deep in her quiet breast;?This is the woman who kept him?True to his standards lost,?When, tossed in the storm and stress of strife,?He thought himself through with the game of life?And ready to pay the cost.?Watching and guarding, whispering still,?"Win you can--and you will, you will!"
This is the story of ages,?This is the Woman's way;?Wiser than seers or sages,?Lifting us day by day;?Facing all things with a courage?Nothing can daunt or dim,?Treading Life's path, wherever it leads--?Lined with flowers or choked with weeds,?But ever with him--with him!?Guidon--comrade--golden spur--?The men who win are helped by her!
_Somewhere she waits, strong in belief, your soul in her firm, white hands: Thank well the gods, when she comes to you--the Woman Who Understands!_
Everard Jack Appleton.
From "The Quiet Courage."
WANTED--A MAN
Business and the world are exacting in their demands upon us. They make no concessions to half-heartedness, incompetence, or plodding mediocrity. But for the man who has proved his worth and can do the exceptional things with originality and sound judgment, they are eagerly watchful and have rich rewards.
You say big corporations scheme?To keep a fellow down;?They drive him,
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