One Deed Of Kindness Noticed Is Worth

Life Is Like A Cocktail, Made Up For The Most Part Of Sweet Things, And Tinged With A Dash Of Bitters. We Must Drain It To The Dregs To Get At The Cherry, Just As We Must Live A Full And Rounded Life To Know All Its Pleasures.

The Man Who Wants A Garden Fair, Or Small Or Very Big, With Flowers Growing Here And There, Must Bend His Back And Dig. The Things Are Mighty Few On Earth That Wishes Can Attain. Whate'er We Want Of Any Worth We've Got To Work To Gain. It Matters Not What Goal You Seek, It's Secret Here Reposes: You've Got To Dig From Week To Week To Get Results Or Roses.

There's Nothing That Builds Up A Toil-weary Soul Like A Day On A Stream, Back On The Banks Of The Old Fishing Hole Where A Fellow Can Dream. There's Nothing So Good For A Man As To Flee From The City And Lie Full Length In The Shade Of A Whispering Tree And Gaze At The Sky. . . . . It Is Good For The World That Men Hunger To Go To The Banks Of A Stream, And Weary Of Sham And Of Pomp And Of Show They Have Somewhere To Dream. For This Life Would Be Dreary And Sordid And Base Did They Not Now And Then Seek Refreshment And Calm In God's Wide, Open Space And Come Back To Be Men.

For Age Is Not Alone Of Time, Or We Should Never See Men Old And Bent At Forty And Men Young At Seventy-three.

Columbus Dreamed Of An Unknown Shore At The Rim Of A Far Flung Sky.