It isn't the victory, after all,
But the fight that a brother makes;
The man who, driven against the wall,
Still stands up erect and takes
The blows of fate with his head held high,
Bleeding and bruised, and pale.
Is the man who'll win in the by and by,
For he isn't afraid to fail.
It's the bumps you get and the jolts you get
And the shocks that your courage stands.
The hours of sorrow and vain regret,
That prize that escapes your hands
That test your mettle and prove your worth;
It isn't the blows you deal,
But the blows you take on the good old earth
That shows if your stuff is real.
--_Robert W. Service_.
BORLEIGH--"Some men, you know, are born great, some achieve
greatness--"
Miss KEEN--"Exactly! And some just grate upon you."
CHARITY
A tradesman in a certain town put a box outside his shop one day,
labeled "For the Blind." A few weeks afterward the box disappeared.
"Halloa! What's happened to your box for the blind?" he was asked.
"Oh, I got enough money," he replied. "And," pointing upward to the
new canvas blind that sheltered his shop-window, "there's the blind.
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