The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 1 December 1910, Page 1993

The Family Circle

RAIN AND ROSES Vf,Life ain't all sun and roses, . ; - ■ ; . "As' l people; ought to know; If wasn’t any showers The roses wouldn’t grow. Life ain’t all easy- sailin’, They’s brokers more or. less /' If wasn’t any failures We wouldn't know success. The roses need the" sunshine, Also a little rain; Life needs a lot o’ pleasure, Also a little pain. Too much of one or t’other Is harmful, goodness knows; Then let us keep on hopin’ To blossom like the rose ! WHAT LEN’S BEING LATE MEANT Mr. Wilbur turned from his writing—the last letter was finishedand reached for the book his son Len had laid down on the library table when he had come in for. supper. After a hasty glance at the title of the volume he held in his hand, a troubled expression spread over the father’s - face. ‘lt’s just —Len,’ he said slowly, laying the'book back on the table. 4 When will that boy acquire the habit — which he so woefully lacksthat of observation and accuracy! It is strange such a characteristic should be wanting in him ; he certainly does not inherit it from his parentsthat’s sure.’ Mr. Wilbur left the room and went across the hall to the foot of the stairs. ... ‘Len!’ he called, ... ‘ Yes, sir,’ came back the boy’s cheery voice. ‘ Come down a minute, please.’ All right, father,’ and Len hurriedly closed the door of his room.

What book did I tell you to call at the office and get this afternoon?' asked Mr. Wilbur slowly, as his son came running down the stairs. The boy thought a moment. ' Why, the''one—on the right hand —of the lower shelf, over your deskßutler's Business Methods, and Len looked up inquiringly. ■ "' Wasn't that what you—wanted ?' ' No ; and did I tell you ■it was the right hand ; of the shelf?' cross-examined his father.

'Come to think —of it,' replied Len, his frank, handsome face flushing slightly, it wasn't; 'twas the lefthand. I remember— I —got the wrong—book?' 'Yes.' And Mr. Wilbur's voice was serious. And the work I wanted to get done this evening I can't do now. It will hinder me a good dealmore than you imaginein my plans for to-morrow. I can see no excuse for the trouble your .heedlessness has given me; there is none.' 'l'm sorry, father,' and Len cast his eyes on the floor. 'Ned Holbrook was waiting for me outside, while I ran in for the book, and I never thought what I was doing—l was in such a hurry.' 'But you ought to have thought,' insisted Mr. Wilbur, not unkindly. ' It's largely just this thoughtlessness that accounts for your lack of observation and- inaccuracy. Somehow ; you ; go on the principle that anyhing will do—no matter • what—so long as you do something; as your getting Butler's Business Methods for me, instead of Atwood's Commercial Statistics, as I asked you to—testifies.' ' You'll never hold the place, Len, with Winship and Bragdon— you get it—unless you cultivate the habits I have so often referred to. Accuracybeing sure of a thing—is indispensable' stock-in-trade for every young man, or anyone that matter.' • -....' ' I'm going to— father,' earnestly.. , ' When and Mr. Wilbur looked searchingly at his son. .. ...... iQ-f

' I'm going to begirt—now.' '', '\ '.'._ 'So you've told me before, Len. But I hope if Winship and—' . * ' Have you said anything about the vacancy there ?' interrupted Len eagerly. .:; ; Yes; indirectly,' replied Mr. Wilbur. 'Mr. Bragdon called, me up over the 'phone this afternoon ,and asked me to tell you to meet him at his home, 225 McClery Street, Wednesday evening, at nine o'clock. And that isn't ten minutes-afterl^eanirigly>;'£ 'He was to be out of town until his office was 1 closed, so he explained; and accordingly couldn't see you there. But he said he wanted the matter settled, so he fixed a date for the evening.' , ' It's a mighty/ swell place. S'pose I'll get it, father?' and there was tin expectant look on Len Wilbur's face? y - 'lf you do™-—'

‘ I’ll remember, father; indeed?. I will. I couldn’t afford not to —in such a position as that,’ divining what Mr. Wilbur was about to say. ’ * ‘ You’ll have to be on your guard constantly' my boy, if you succeed. For habitssuch as 'you lackare not easily formed; nor are poor ones any more easily broken,’ and his father laid a hand affectionately on his son’s shoulders. , ■ ■ -■'■■■ . 4 I — know.’ • ; A, happier boy couldn’t have been found in Colfax than was Len Wilbur the’following Wednesday. Somehow,' he felt that Winship and Bragdon had already decided -to give him the coveted position in their office, and that his meeting Mr. Bragdon in. the evening was simply a matter of formality. Hadn’t the head of the big banking firm and Len s grandfather been schoolboys together, and- hadn't he always been on intimate terms with the Wilbur family since that time? ‘ There’s only one other fellow— all the applicants—' that stands 1 a ghost of a chance:: getting in over me, and that s Mark Wheeler. Blit father’s' long friendship with Mr. Bragdon gives me a pull—that he doesn’t have. I’d take my chances—even if it wasn’t for that fact—against his, reflected Len. ' On Wednesday evening he was ready > for his appointment with the banker long before eight o’clock. He planned to take the 8.30 Crosstown car'. This would bring him within four blocks ; of McClery street; the rest of the distance he could easily walk. W ! : Time goes awfully slow!’ thought Len impatiently, as he stood in his- room, waiting for the car. ‘ I never saw it drag so—-before.’ . . ■ Before Len left the house—a half an hour later——hewent down to the kitchen closet to get some camphor for a bad - cold-sore he had on • one of his lips. He knew exactly where the bottle was kept; and so decided he didn’t need a light. _ Besides; it was" nearly eight-thirty then, and there wouldn’t be time to bother ! . I might miss my car ii I fussed too much,’ he thought? hurriedly. ■ ° . a Groping his way in the dark, Len soon found the bottle—it was on the top shelf of the closet—and taking out the moist cork he pressed it to his lip. He held it‘there a moment, a.nd then in the dark turned-out some of the extract on his handkerchief. This he applied to the' coldsore for a few seconds, and then hastily wiping his face A e Rut the handkerchief hack in his pocket and returned the bottle to its place. ‘ That- doesn’t smell like- camphor,’ thought Len . It must be awfully weak, not to f Suddenly he stopped and listened. 4 It’s the ’ Len rushed- from- the- house - ' and out to the street. Just in time,’ he panted, as he swung himself on to the moving car. 1 came mighty near, losing it!’ As Len entered the car,- all the passengers--as from some sudden impulse—looked up and smiled. The boy felt his face growing red and he’ became more and more embarrassed, as the people in the people in the car kept meat ln ° around a t bun, evidently to their great arause- ,, ‘ if* J ike t( ? know what’s the matter with me—anyhow I’ thought Len, indignantly. ‘I should think- I was a free show by the way everyone looks at me. I’m thankful there s one on the' car that’s got some manners !’ from I s . * 116 a -sight Len heard a boy, several seats from him say to Ins A companion, and they both shook with suppressed merriment. . - , . ‘ laugh, at me—if you want to!’ Len said angrily beneath his breath . 4 lt only shows your ill-breeding ’ 7 ‘lares!’ called the conductor. A ” h f Len had hardly time to get bis nickel out of his pocket before the conductor stood beside him. P ec ’) Had the blues to-day?’ he remarked smiling. fesenHidlv “ f nobody’s business if I had I’ added Len resentfully, but in a low voice. 1 Ij nn EVei K 6y^ in*.the car was again turned in Len’s direcpassed o „ he Conductor s fac « wore a broad grin as he '‘l -’

. Len was scarlet. : \ ~,«„ ' lt? SUch ••? funny riliKl a woman in the end of the car was saying. : «. Do you suppose he knows £ . Jhe last of the sentence was lost, as the car bounded noisdy ; across the suburban tracks. Bounded | Knows—what!' was Len's 1 mental querv h»«*A f t t ed di , r ? ctl y at-™* Such impudence I never ffiUC " further t 0 g - thank good'Sp -'-. At Talbot Square Len left the car. niw-^J-! furnished you some amusement' was hi<i parting shot to the conductor, as he jumped to the ground , ? - On reaching the sidewalk, Len looked at his watch nine.? GOt ** nnnutes yet- he said. 'lt's just S off „t -J h A first j nan met, as Len started in the direction of McClery street, eyed him curiously, arid he had harS? passed-before-he turned round and smiled dly i. j,, T hasn't any better i^^ manners than the rest nf +T, am had!' Len had suddenly looked back and had met S stranger's question mg gaze. ' I can't see who >* J? i t? able about me; I'm dressed just Z I Sav^ V ™X S t started on at a rapid pace. flya ftm ' and !» e

On the corner. Len met a newsboy. ‘ Well, if you aren’t a guy!’ ‘Say, what’s the matter with —or me!’ demanded lien, ■ angrily,* 1 Don’t you know?’ and the boy giggled. ‘ Certainly I don’t,’ replied Len, with all the dignity he could assume. _ ... ‘ Better look in the glass, then,’ and the newsboy went on, chuckling. ‘ldiot!’ The next door was a drug store, and Len hurried in. ‘May I borrow a mirror, a minute?’ he asked. The clerk smiled, and passed him a small hand glass. ‘What is the matter with me?’ exclaimed Len, in astonishment. ‘My face ’ A deep blue ring completely encircled it, passing around both cheeks and ’ forehead. It had been put on with his handkerchief, while in the kitchen at home, before catching his ear. ‘ What have you been using on your face recently ?’ asked the clerk, interestedly. ‘ Nothing.’ ‘ Sure?’ ‘Not that I know of!’ Just then Len took out his handkerchief; on it was, the same color that he bore on his face. He looked at it in great perplexity. ‘ All I’ve put on it iscamphor,’ he said to the clerk’s look of inquiry. ‘I did it in the ‘dark—just before I left home.’ ‘But that isn’t camphor,’ returned the clerk. It appears to mo like bluing—or indigo,’ making a closer examination. ‘ There w as a bottle ’ Then Len remembered that the last time he had used . the camphor he hadn’t returned it to the closet shelf where his mother kept it. And he recollected, too, that there was. a partly filled bottle of bluing on the same shelfand this he had used on his face. ‘No wonderthe folkslaughed!’ and Len himself smiled grimly. Then, turning to the clerk, ‘ Can I get this —here?’ ‘ Why, we’ll— try.’ It was twenty minutes after 9 when Len rang Mr. Bragdon’s bell. ‘.Hope I’m not too late,’ thought the hoy to himself. ‘'Someone else is with Mr. Bragdon now,’ replied the servant who had come to the door. ‘ Won’t you step in and wait Perhaps you’re the one Mr. Bragdon was expecting at 9 o’clock.’ ‘ I Jaad an appointment at that time, but owing to an accident wasn’t able to get here,’ explained Len. At 9;30 the door opened, and Mr. Bragdon and Mark Wheeler stepped into the hall. ‘ I’ll do my best to please ’ It was the young man speaking. Len felt his mouth become suddenly dry. .‘That means ’ . ‘Good evening Mr. Bragdon had returned from the door where he had gone with his caller. ‘ I had given you upyour coming; and thinking that you had changed your mind in regard to the position I offered it to Mark Wheeler.’ Len uttered a lame apology, and directly left the house. ' ‘ But remember, my boy,’ suggested Mr. Wilbur, on Len’s rehearsing to his father his experience of the evening, ‘ that our failures —if we are ourselves responsible for them—are sometimes our best friends. And you can make it so in this case — you will.’ FAMILY FUN A Pack being Cut into Four Parts, to Tell the Top Card of each Part without Seeing it. —This is a pretty little trick, but should not bo dwelt upon too .long, although there is little chance of being discovered. You commence by notiiig the bottom card, which we will sxippose to be the three of clubs; pass it to the top, and palm it, then offer the pack to .the company to shuffle. Upon its being returned you place the three of clubs upon the. top and the pack upon the table, and address the company to the effect that you do not propose to meddle with the card’s in any way., but that, upon the cards being cut into four parts, you will name the top card of each part. Invite someone to cut, and watch where the top portion is placed—for the three of clubs is your key. The cards being divided, you place your hand upon the top card of the heap farthest from the three of clubs; think for a.second, then observe; 1 This must be the three of clubs.’ Take it up, and notice what it is without allowing the audience to see it. We will suppose the card you have just taken up is the four of spades. Place it in, your left hand, and putting your right hand, as before, upon the second heap, remark ‘ This must be the four of spades.’ Take it up, as before, ascertain its denominationwhich may be the king of hearts—and place it with the first; and again think oyer the third, saying: ‘This must be the king of hearts,’ Take it, as before, anr., finding it the six of diamonds, take up the last of the four which is the three of —and say: ‘ This is the six of diamonds ’; you need not look at this one, for there are no more cards to take. Exhibiting the four cards, you show them to be those you have just named, : '