_Keeping Calm_
I have my share of grief and care,
Beyond the slightest doubt;
I have enough of dreadful stuff
Each day to fret about.
So when I see prepared for me
A line of stuff like this:
"The Sabbath gang now want to hang
The man who steals a kiss!
They'd kill the joy of man and boy,
Who'd spend the Sabbath day
By motoring where song birds sing,
And put all fun away!"
I do not fret and get upset,
And let that frighten me;
Let others storm--that's one reform
That's never going to be!
--_Edgar A. Guest_.
Recent clerical utterances against Sunday amusements raise the
question of whether a clergyman, with six days for outdoor recreation,
is the one best qualified to pass on a Sabbath schedule of toilers who
work from sun to sun six days a week.
LADY (to small boy who is fishing)--"I wonder what your father would
say if he caught you fishing on Sunday?"
BOY--"I don't know. You'd better ask him. That's him a little farther
up the stream."
FOND MOTHER--"Oh, Reginald! Reginald! I thought I told you not to play
with your soldiers on Sunday."
REGINALD--"But I call them the Salvation Army on Sunday.
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