The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 15 November 1917, Page 45

The Family Circle

KEEP A-PLUGGIN' AWAY. I've a humble little motto That is homely, though it's true, — Keep a-pluggin' away. It's a thing when I've an object That I always try to do, — Keep a-pluggin' away. When you've rising storms to quell, When opposing waters swell, It will never fail to tell, — Keep a-pluggin' away. If the hills are high before And the paths are hard to climb, Keep a-pluggin' away. And remember that successes Come to him who bides his time, — Keep a-pluggin' ,away. "" From the great to the least, None are from the rule released. Be thou toiler, poet, priest, Keep a-pluggin' away. Delve away beneath the surface, There is treasure farther down, — Keep a-pluggin' away. Let the rain come down in torrents, Let the threat'ning heavens frown, Keep a-pluggin' away. When the clouds have rolled away, There will come a brighter day All your labor to repay,— Keep a-pluggin' away. There'll be lots of sneers to swallow There'll be lots of pain to bear, — Keep a-pluggin' away. If you've got your eye on heaven, Some bright day you'll wake up there, — Keep a-pluggin' away. Perseverance still is king ; Time its sure reward will bring : Work and wait unwearying,—■ Keep a-pluggin' away. —Paul Laurence Dunbar.

A QUEER BEGINNING.

Kenneth was running home from school ; at the corner of the street he found his mother waiting for him. A very important matter had made it necessary for her to be away at luncheon time. “I am afraid that you will have a lonely luncheon, and you will have to cut the bread for yourself,” she said. “I’m sorry that I cannot leave some little playmate with you.” Kenneth was sorry, too. With his father and mother he had come to live in a new neighborhood, and although the houses were close together, everything seemed strangely shut up and* separated. The only child who was near his own .age was a little girl next door. On the first day Kenneth had run out to call to her across the fence, but she had turned her head away quickly and gone into the house. Kenneth saw out of the corner of his eye, as he ran along, that the little girl was just coming out on her porch, which was exactly like the porch of his own home. He wondered what she was going to do, but he would not turn his head to see. Instead he looked at the next porch, which also was exactly like his own. Kenneth did not hurry; he dreaded the long, lonely afternoon. He did not even notice whether, his little next door neighbor was still on her porch as he passed. He went straight on through the house, and into the dining-room. “Why,” he thought, “mother must have sliced the bread,"after all! Here it is!” . -

* The table was laid for two and left untouched. There was a plate of tiny cakes beside the bread, a pat of golden butter, some slices of meat arranged on lettuce leaves, and, in the very centre of the table, a small glass bowl of gleaming, quivering, crimson jelly. Kenneth’s eyes brightened as he caught sight of the jelly. He did not forget to put on his napkin before he reached over to help himself. A sound made him turn to look toward the back of the room. Standing in an open door and looking very curiously at him, was the little girl who lived next door and her mother.. Plainly they were as much surprised as he. . Kenneth started to his feet. “Why—why—” hebegan. It was very strange that they should be standing there like that. But only for a moment wasKenneth confused.

“Won’t you come in and lunch with me?” he said. “Mother had to go away, but she has left everything ready.” He had time to be glad that his mother had put on the jelly, and that he. had not yet broken into the beautiful, quivering mound, before a strange smile on the little girl’s face brought sudden, awful doubt into his mind. He looked about hastily. Of course he had never seen that picture above the sideboard ! The sideboard itself began to look strangely unfamiliar; equally strange were the curtainsthe chairsthe rugs! “I—l think I’ve made a mistake !” he stammered.

His face burned and his legs felt shaky. What must these people be thinking of him ? He had come into their house and was taking possession of their own luncheon !

The little girl’s mother broke into a kind laugh, and the girl, pushing shyly against her mother, laughed too.

"It's because the houses in this row are all alike; they are to blame," the lady said. "But since we can't be your guests, we want you to be ours. My name is Mrs. Campbell, and this is Sylvia. Dearie, bring another chair and another plate for our new neighbor." Kenneth stayed, instead of running' away, as he felt at first that he must do; but it was not until long after Sylvia and he were friends that he could laugh at the beginning of their friendship.— Youth's ComqKimoii;

HE BIT HIS NAILS. Former President "Taft, who is a huge man, tells this one on himself: * "There is a lad of my acquaintance in New Haven," said Mr. Taft, "who used to bite his nails. ' See here/ said his nurse to him one day, 'if you keep biting your nails like that, do you know what will happen to you V " 'No,' said the youngster. 'What?' " 'You'll swell up like a balloon and burst.' "The boy believed his nurse. He stopped biting his nails at once. About a month after the discontinuance of his habit he encountered me at luncheon. He surveyed me with stern disapproval. Then he walked over and said to me accusingly: " 'You bite your nails !' " THE WITNESS SCORED. During a certain case in court a witness was being sharply cross-examined, but on one occasion he proved a match to his questioner. "Now, be very careful how you answer! It has been stated that the accused was alone in the room when you entered... Was that so?" "No, he wasn't replied the witness promptly. 'Ah ! Now we are getting on ! —er-will you please tell the jury who was with him?" "Why, I was, of course!" " ' PREPARING FOR THE HARVEST. % ) A long wisp of artificial: wheat that served as a trimming. oh the sweet girl's hat was placed horizontally so that it tickled up and down the' face of the man who

sat next to her on the tram, until it came to a resting place with the end nestling in his right ear. After the tram had travelled some distance, the man was seen to remove from his pocket a large jackknife, which he proceeded to strop on the palm of a horny hand. • . Excitedly the girl inquired—- " Why are you doing that?" . "If them oats gits in my ear agin," the man ejaculated, "there's going to be a harvest." AMOUNTED TO THE SAME THING. The manager of a vaudeville house was testing the abilities of a few candidates for stage honors one day last week, and this is how he let down one of the wouldbe funny men: "Your songs won't do for me. I can't allow any profanity in my theatre," said he. "But I didn't use profanity," was the reply. "No," said the manager, "but the -audience would." NOT HIS OWN. It was a very fashionable concert, and the artists very well known ones, but two young things were too busy with picking out their peculiarities to hear the music. In the midst of a beautiful selection the pianist suddenly lifted his hands from the keys, and one of the young things was heard to say clearly : "I wonder if that hair is his own?" The old man who sat beside her was slightly deaf, but he turned with a benevolent smile. "No, miss," he imparted pleasantly, "that is Schubert's." SMILE-RAISERS. "Look here," exclaimed the new tenant, indignantly. "You advertised this place as being near the water, I've looked in every direction and I don't see any water." "You haven't looked in the cellar yet," reminded tho agent. The dog stole cautiously into the butcher's shop and bolted with a large piece of meat. The butcher raged. "Is that your dog?" he roared at the man passing by. "Yes," replied the man, "he was my dog once, but he seems to be doing for himself now." The bad boy wrote on the blackboard: "Our teacher is a donkey." The other boys anticipated ructions when the schoolmaster arrived ; but there were none. He merely wrote the word "driver" after "donkey," and the school opened as usual. "Is this beef too rare for you, Mr. Simpkins?" "Well, since you ask me, Mrs. Skinner, I would like it a little oftener." "Got any scars on you?" asked the surgeon. "No," said the recruit, "but you'll find some cigarettes in my coat pocket, doc." "Oh, John !" exclaimed the young mother, happily, "the baby can walk." "Good for him !" returned the cruel father. "Then he can walk the floor with himself at night." Two Scotchmen were enjoying the fun of the fair. Seeing an old fiddler playing in the street, they went over to him, and one, handing him some pennies, asked him to play the "Battle of Stirling Brig." The old fiddler took the money and went rasping away the same as before. The yokels getting tired of this the spokesman again went over to the fiddler and said to him:' ■...■:' -/-,,-,- ' .. . ".. ~ "Hi, man, that's no' 'Battle of Stirling Brig.' " "I ken," replied the old fiddler; "that's the skirmish before the battle."