The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 9 October 1913, Page 61

The Family Circle

50MB TRUE MAXIMS A resolution put infuse Is . better than a good excuse. It does not prove that you are right V To best your neighbor in a fight. If you must cheat to win a game, Stop playing ere you come to shame. Men who perform the greatest feats , > Look plain and common on the streets. ’Tis better far to try and fail ; - Than just to sit around and wail. Don’t scorn the ; poor man whom you meet To-morrow he may own your street. • You have no right to ask of Jim >■ A favor you’d not do for him. Just when they think they know it all, Wise men, like aviators, fall. Live each day so none need weep O’er your misdeeds the while you sleep. THE WAY TO WIN George had been working hard all the evening over the twentieth chapter of the first book of Caesar. At length he closed the book with a slam. * I think I won’t go to college, after all,’ he said to his family. ‘ Why not?’ asked his father, in surprise, for the great; ambition of George’s life had always been to go to college. ‘ Because the entrance examinations are so hard,’ said George. ‘ I’d ’ have to work and worry all this year to pass my preliminaries and then go at it again harder than ever for the finals. It’s no joke !’ ; ‘ That’s true,’ said father, gravely, ‘it isn’t a joke. What will you do instead?’ • ‘ Oh, go to work somewhere,’ George answered easily, as visions of money in his pocket on Saturday nights and care-free evenings without lessons rose, up before him. -1- ‘ Let’s see,’ replied his father. ‘That means getting up an hour earlier every day than you get up now. It means starting in as an errand boy on a par with the boy who was blacking boots last week. It means no more afternoons to play in, except perhaps, on Saturdays in the summer. It means doing exactly as 'you are told all day long, or else hunting for a new new job. It means staying an errand boy or a porter; or perhaps a clerk at ten dollars a week, , unless you work harder than you ever had to work at school. No one makes any advance in business without hard work.’ •£ George sighed dismally. ‘ It’s work, work, everywhere, and I hate to work!’ he said. K; His father turned upon him sharply. ‘.lf you forget everything else I have ever told you,’ he said, at least remember what I tell you now; The man who hates work goes through life with a ball and chain dragging after him. He has a curse upon him that blasts his life. The hoboes . and tramps are haters of work v Sneak-thieves and thugs and worse are haters of work. So are most of the men at the bottom of the industrial scale. They hated work, and dodged it, and slighted what they had to do, and did just enough to hold their jobs, and they stay at the bottom, hating work' still !’ V" " , 1,,, V , V Suddenly his father’s tone changed. ‘ When we saw the football, game at Cambridge last year,’ he asked, ‘do you remember the inscription on the Stadium, “Dedicated to the joy of manly contest?” Learn that “joy of manly contest” with hard work, my boy! ’ : '" ■ ■ ■ . •• •' '

Don’t run away from work, George! Don’t be afraid of it! Meet it bravely, with the joy of manly contest in your heart, and day by day you will begin to find the struggle good, and out of it will come one of the supremely great and enjoyable things of life!’ George sat quiet for a time. Then his jaw closed with a snap. ‘ I’m going to begin right now,’ he said, ‘and I’m going to know what this chapter’s about.’ THE MONKEY AND THE SUGAR . I remember once in India giving, a. tame monkey a lump of sugar - inside a corked bottle. The monkey was of an inquiring mind, and it nearly killed him. Sometimes, in .an impulse of disgust, he would throw the bottle away out of his own reach, and then be distracted until it was given back to him. ,v At other times he would sit with a countenance of the most intense dejection, contemplating the bottled sugar, and then, as if pulling himself together for another effort at solution, would sternly take up the problem afresh, and gaze into ■ the bottle.. He would tilt it up one way and try to drink the sugar out of the neck, and then, suddenly reversing it, try to catch it as it fell out at the bottom. v ~ Under the impression that he could capture the sugar by surprise, he kept rasping his teeth against the glass in futile bites, and, warming to the pursuit of the revolving lump, used to tie himself into regular knots round the bottle. Fits of the most ludicrous melancholy would alternate with spasms of delight as a new idea seemed to suggest itself, followed by a fresh series of experiments. ‘ Nothing availed, however, until one day a light was shed upon the problem by a jar containing bananas falling from the table with a crash and the fruit rolling about in all directions. His monkeyship contemplated the catastrophe, and reasoned upon it with the intelligence of a Humbolt. Lifting the bottle high in his claws, he brought it down upon the floor with a tremendous noise, smashing the glass into fragments, after which he calmly transferred the sugar to his mouth, and munched it with much satisfaction. A MARCONI INCIDENT Mr. George R. Sims tells of a Marconi incident in the Referee , for the truth of which he vouches. When the Marconi Inquiry was at its fiercest a distinguished Radical journalist gave a little dinner at a restaurant, and his principal guests were Mr. Lloyd George and Sir Rufus Isaacs. ‘Just as everybody was happy and gay,’ says Mr. Sims, ‘a gentleman at a table in the same room called out “Marconi!” The two Ministers started. A shade of annoyance crept over their always expressive features, and the Radical journalist glared angrily in the direction of the offending stranger. But it was a perfectly innocent remark. One of the head waiters who was attending on the two Cabinet Ministers was named Marconi, and the gentleman, an old client of the house, wanted him. That was all.’ THE DOCTOR’S DIARY At night the weary doctor sat down and noted as, usual in his diary the condition of his patients: The ragman—Picking up. The dentist pull through. The painter More bad signs. The miser-Barely living. The major—Rallying. The actor— the last stage. The cobbler Mending. The banker Failing. _ The bootmakerWill not last long. The barber- Saved by a close shave. The pugilist-Striking improvement, THE END OF THE STORY From Germany comes this story about a novelist and an editor. The editor had ordered a story of a

certain length, and the novelist had written several hundred words too many. ;In order to make the story fit the space at his disposal, ' the last few paragraphs were condensed into a single sentence. This is the way it read: ‘ Von Berken took a small glass of whisky, his hat, his departure, no notice of his pursuers, a revolver out of his pocket, and, finally, his life.’ SUPPLYING THE ANSWER A speaker who relies, upon his audience to supply a point he has been trying to drive home has too much ■ confidence in his own powers. There was the quack doctor, for example, who said ‘ I have sold these pills for over twenty years and never heard a word of complaint. Now, what does that prove?’ ‘ That dead men tell no tales,’ came the answer. Another instance is furnished by a priest, quoted by the Michigan Catholic. ' He was giving a lecture on the evil of great, wealth, and turned to a man among the y audience whom he knew to be the father of seven girls. ‘ Think,’ . said the priest, ‘of being the proud father of seven daughters. Think who is the happier—the man with a million dollars or the man who is the father of seven daughters? I will ask you, Mr. Sheldon, who do you think is the happier?’ . - Father,’ replied the man, cheerfully, ‘ I think that a man with seven daughters is the happier. A man with a million dollars worries for more. A man with seven daughters never does.’ HOW COULD HE A shambling old negro went down the street, leading a big dog, with a ‘For Sale’ sign on its collar. A little girl espied the dog and wanted it. She teased so hard that her mother finally asked its price. _ ‘ Ten "shillings,’ said the negro, an expectant grin dividing his features. ‘Ten shillings!' exclaimed the lady, “Why, the dog isn’t worth that much. I’ll give you two shillings.’ The negro drew himself mp indignantly. Lady,’ he said, Ah couldn’t think of it. Why, de fellow ah got dis dog from gave me five shillings to get rid of him!’ A BIRD STORY Some years ago my father had a pair of common white pigeons (says a writer in the London Spectator). They were very tame, and became very much attached to him, so much so that they were almost his constant companions, accompanying him in his -walks or when out driving. They would answer his whistle like a dog, and would alight on his proffered hand or enter his pocket if opened for them. A sceptical friend thought they would show the same familiarity to any other person, and, to give them a fair trial, he procured a suit of clothes of the same color as that which my father wore. Arrayed in his disguise, our sceptical friend, imitating my father’s whistle as nearly as possible, whistled to the pigeons. Immediately they left their perch on the house-top and flew down to the hand held out to , receive them, but when they came within a few yards of il they suddenly checked themselves, fluttered perplexedly for a few moments around our friend, and then flew back to the house-top. This was conclusive evidence. But a sad accident happened. One morning one of the pigeons was found upon the high-road dead, its body bearing marks of injury, but from what cause we never knew. We carried the dead body home and buried it in a sunny and quiet spot in the garden. For three days the surviving pigeon, with untiring energy, searched the country far and near for its mate, ■ but in vain. It refused to touch food, and even the influence which my father usually exercised over it was - gone. On the third day we found it dead in the dovecot, its little heart broken with grief by the loss of its life-long companion. We buried it beside" its mate. ,• Since then my father has never kept pets. /

A LITTLE GENTLEMAN A little boy and girl were once playing together, and the boy struck the girl, hurting her so that she began to cry. The boy looked at her a fev. r moments then he said, I didn't mean to Hurt you, Katie, and 1 m sorry.' The little girl’s face brightened instantly and she replied, ‘'Well, if you are sorry, it doesn’t hurt me any more.’ - _ - FAMILY FUN TRICKS AND ILLUSIONS. (Special to the N.Z. Tablet by Mahatma.) f The Suspended Matches.—The performer shows an ordinary box of wooden matches, one of which he removes, uses, 'and throws aside. He then turns the box upside down and slowly removes the inner compartment of the box. The matches, however, do not fall out. This inner compartment, 'still upside down, is now placed on top of the cover which is transferred to the opposite hand. The free hand then takes the interior, still upside down, and slowly returns it to the cover via the opposite end. The effect is very pretty. The box and matches are immediately handed for examination. The secret in this case is a piece of match placed across the centre of the box from side to side. This must be broken off the right length ’to pinch securely across the box, but must not bulge .out the sides so as to prevent it being pushed in and out of the cover easily. Place a loose- match on top of the cross piece— if the box is not too full one or more matches may be removed from under it, and all is ready. In conclusion','when offering the box for examination purposely spill the matches, thereby concealing the short piece. A Miniature Firework.—Some of the best tricks depend upon chemical action. To make this little firework it is not necessary to be a skilled workman. All the mechanism required is an ordinary clay pipe and a candle. You take some leaves of tinfoil (that in which chocolates are often wrapped will do), and cut them into strips about half an inch wide. Then, holding one of the strips near a lighted candle, you use the tobacco pipe as- a blow pipe, and blow the flame on to the tinfoil, when the metallic leaf takes fire and falls in balls of fire, which roll about over the table, sometimes for a considerable distance, and sometimes dividing and giving birth to other balls of fire, which run about in similar fashion. When the flame is strong, and the tinfoil burns quickly, the globules are very abundant, and present the appearance of a veritable shower of fire in miniature. The experiment is absolutely without danger. The combustion of the globules of the oxygen evolved is so complete that' they might even drop on a wax tablet without leaving any trace. The experiment is really a very pretty one.. The Vanishing Matches. This is an amusing trick at the expense of one of the company. The effect is as follows;The performer asks one of the company to oblige him with a match. He must make sure first of all that his victim uses wooden matches. "Receiving the box the performer proceeds to open it, remove a match, ■ and ‘ light up.’ • He then returns the box with profuse thanks, and the victim puts the box in his pocket victim, because the box is empty. The explanation is this: Previous to borrowing the matchbox, the performer, has palmed in his left hand an empty interior of a similar box. Receiving the box in the right hand he transfers it to the left, forcing one end on to the concealed ‘ empty,’ which action pushes open the box in the most natural manner, and exposes the matches, one of which is now removed for the usual purpose. The box is then transferred to the right hand, the action enabling, him to push in .the empty interior which pushes the one which is full into the right hand, where it is ‘palmed.’ The box is then returned empty.

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