IV.
What shall it matter, then, what shall it matter?
Peace still awaits after all of earth's clatter!
Peace still awaits, all our love-dreams adorning,
There in the bliss of the Glorified Morning!
Caught on the Fly.
Life's experiences are very much the same as when we go fishing. The biggest fish always gets away. But even then we have a pretty good feast on the minnows.
Yesterday is life's departed king; tomorrow holds all the possibilities of clown and emperor. Only today wears the glittering crown and the purple robes of power.
Don't pray for what you want, and quit with the prayer. Spit on your hands and grab it as it hurries by.
The lawn-mower is quite a play thing for the city-bred man, but in the interest of humanity he ought to be vaccinated against the back ache.
"When the 'Phone Bell Rings."
It's no difference what you're doing,
Whether you're asleep or ain't,
When the 'phone begins pursuing
It will catch you,—no complaint!
For its call is strong and steady,
And it always answer brings,
For you hurry with your "ready!"
When the 'phone bell rings!
O, it interrupts your vision
With its long, unceasing howl;
It dispels your dreams elysian
With insistence fresh and foul!
O, it summons you at meal-times
With a joy that stays and clings,
Till you swear it's always de'il-times
When the 'phone bell rings!
It's no matter where you're straying,—
In the garden, barn or bed,
There's no time to spend in praying.
Or in playing, quick or dead;
And if Gabriel "in that morning"
Wants a good old trump that swings,
Just let "central" sound his warning
While the 'phone bells rings!
The Negro's Warning.
Doan't yuh grumble, brudder!
Doan't yuh nebber doubt it,
Debbil gwine ter git yuh
'Foh yuh think erbout it!
Put yuh in de iurn-works
Whar de sinnah weeps,
Loadin' up de injines
Shovelin' coal fer keeps!
The Kingbolt Philosopher.
"I've often noticed," said Uncle Ezra Mudge, as he slowly filled his Missouri meerschaum with Virginia twist,—"I've offen noticed thet nerve is the most vallyble asset in the credit items of human life. The pore man thet's got a plenty of it is an uncrowned king with pears's an' di'monds at his command, but the king thet lacks it will soon be uncrowned too. When a rich man er a famous man gits down in the mouth onct an' loses his nerve, it's all day with him in a minnet, an' a rope or a six-shooter ginerally winds him up. But if a feller hangs on to his nerve, he is alright fer the sights and scenes of this world an' he needn't be nussin' any worries 'bout the next one."
"Hands Around, My Honey."
Sparrow on the wagon-shed,
Chirping with a will;
Robin in the cherry-tree
Warblin' fit to kill!
Every thing's rejoicin',
Hidin' of the wrong,—
So hands around, my honey,
And we'll join the song!
Mock-bird on the chimney top,—
How that rascal mocks,—
Spillin' songs of melody,
From his music-box!
Over all the live-long place
All the pleasures throng,
So hands around, my honey,
And we'll join the song!
The Spirit of Compromise.
"I done heah dat de dimmycrats kinder comp'omised at de St. Looey convention meetin'," said old Black Mose. "I tell you, man, dat com'p'omisin' bis'ness am a great thing, suah! My ole woman en' me hez quahled en' fit en' fussed erroun' fer nigh fohty yeahs ober wheddah I should pack in de watah er chop de wood, en' we fin'ly comp'omised de mattah by hur a doin ob 'em bofe!"
Best of All.
[Pie-million], cantaloope;
Musk-million tall;
But de blessed worter-million
Am de bes' of all!
Whar de worter-million grows,
Hebben's dar bechune de rows!
The Kingbolt Philosopher.
"It hain't so much difference what kind of work you do as how you do it," said Uncle Ezra Mudge. "The feller thet sets around an' kicks on the kind of a job he has never gits many others offered him, while the chap thet does good work at whatsumever he gits giner'ly finds a ladder to climb up to the top.
"I reckon David out there herdin' the sheep never kicked much on his job, an' I'll bet four 'coon-skins thet he wuz the best sheep-herder in all the Promised Land, er the Lord wouldent a-picked him out an' set him to work at the job of bein' king."
Little Sermons.
Where the world is going is not of much consequence. It's where you are going that cuts the ice.
When the sermon gets over thirty minutes long, the Devil comes to church and takes a seat in the Amen corner.
Heaven is in every man's easy reach, but some are too contrary to even tip-toe for the blessings of the other Kingdom.
"Don't Worry or Fret, My Dearie!"
Don't worry or fret, my dearie!
The shadows will soon go by;
Before half your tears have vanished
The sun's in the happy sky;
There's trouble enough, my dearie,
In days of a glad life long,
But Sorrows will die with no one to sigh
With Love and a little of Song!
There are some things about "our island possessions" which will bear imitation this hot weather. The costumes Of the Igorrotes, for instance.
Caught on the Fly.
Mr. Knowing How commands a princely salary while Hard Work is on the bum hunting for wages.
Some people are so anxious for happiness that they make themselves miserable in running it down.
Whether we learn much in the school of experience or not, we all register for the full term and pay the entire tuition mentioned in the catalogue.
Charity is something of which the mills of human life never turn out an over-production. Even some of the blessed saints could use a little more in their daily walk and conversation.
Hope.
All the path is dark with shadows
And the road is hard to see,
But there's sunshine on the hill-tops
And that's the way for me!
There are many blessings in this world, but a shade-tree at the end of the cotton row, and a water-melon cooling in a seventy-foot well are two of its greatest joys.