THE GOLDEN RULE IN BUSINESS

WHEN

WHEN the ambitious boy of the present day Becomes potential in commerce and trade,

He will not be busy in trying to slay

The dragon we fought thro' a long crusadeCutthroat competition.

The Golden Rule will be his guide,

In business as well as living;

He will take advantage of what we've tried
And have no fear nor even misgiving

About co-operation.

-ELBERT H. GARY.

A YOUTH OF MANASSAS

AID a Young Litterateur of Manassas,
"Some Poets catch flies with molasses.

I'm for 'red blood' and snap

And no 'highbrow' pap;

So I'll feed my wild oats to Pegasus."

-JOHN HAYS HAMMOND.

A

A TOAST

LONG road, a short road, 'tis quite the

same,

Some good luck, some bad luck, 'tis all in the

game;

So here's to things that are and here's to things

that seem,

Life may not really be war, mayhap 'tis only a

dream.

-GRACE GALLATIN SETON.

(Mrs. Ernest Thompson Seton.)

I

THE CHILDREN

After Fifty Years

DWELL in the midst of immortals; The years are rolled back like a scroll; Each morning the manna from Heaven Comes down and refreshes my soul; For the little white arms still encircle

My neck in their tender embrace,
And the smiles that are haloes of heaven,
Shed their sunshine of love on my face.

The High Tor still shelters the valley;
The Hudson flows on to the sea;
And there, every morning, the children.
Are coming and waiting for me;
The bloom is still fresh on their faces;

The light is undimmed in their eyes;— Untaught, yet such marvelous teachers; Unthinking, yet wondrously wise.

Aye; wiser than all of the sages

Are God's little women and men;
Ah, could we but lose half our knowledge,
And be as the children again!

For nothing have we but world wisdom,
While they the infallible test;
For the love of a child goes unerring
As a mother-bird's flight to her nest.

THE CHILDREN-(Continued)

And these are but types of all children;
Ever trusting, where trust can be given;
Ever happy, for they have no sorrow;—
They had none to bring out of heaven;-
Ever loving, yet never mistaken;

If a child slips its hand into mine,
I am thrilled with a sense of God's favor,
For that is an impulse divine.

These, these are the beautiful beings
God planned for this world without sin;
Fit companions of birds and of flowers,

And the sweet things still growing therein;
And what have we done with the millions
He has sent from the heavenly goal;
Each bearing the seal of the Father
Impressed on its innocent soul?

We have taken His beautiful angels,
Crushed all the God out of them; then,
We have made of them frivolous women,
And selfish and murderous men;
And brothers are killing their brothers,
And sisters are stopping their ears,

To hear not the cry of their sister,
And shutting their eyes to her tears.