"Unequal wages are a source of discontent, but if we could be taught how to secure the value for our money, to spend with better judgment, even less money would go farther.
"Then, again, if our amusements could be arranged so that we could get something decent between nine and ten o'clock at night; but everything is half over, or shut, by that time, and we've nothing to do but walk the streets, sit in the park, drink soda water, or look at moving pictures, until you hate them all, and when Monday morning comes you've spent your money and had nothing. It's a deadly life, and we all look forward to getting out of it soon. Never a minute to call one's own, not often a room or bed to one's self, at the beck and call of somebody night and day, and in many places not even trusted with the things to work with, if there are any."
*
Would you like a tiny book of poetry—real poetry, made by one of our strong writers?
He makes not only the poems, but the book; prints it, binds it, sends it to you himself.
It is a dainty thing, five and a half by four inches; but it has in it both thought and feeling, and beauty of expression.
"A Ship of Souls" is the title, and the first stanza carries the main idea—touched and re-touched throughout.
"My soul is not one; 'tis a ship of souls,
And I am the vessel in which they ride.
Some handle the ropes and manage the sails,
And one at the helm stands firm to guide.
Some board me for pleasure, and some for gain,
And some make journeys to distant goals,
And my life is steered through the sun and rain,
For I am not a soul, but a ship of souls."
A Ship of Souls.—Being a group of poems written and printed by Harvey
White. The Maverick Press; Woodstock, New York, 1910. 50c.