The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 3 October 1918, Page 45

The Family Circle

LET'S FORGET IT. Dear, let’s forget it ! Let’s put it aside ; Life is so large and the world is so wide ; Days are so short and there’s so much to do ; What if it was false—there’s plenty that’s true. Dear, let’s forget it ! Let’s brush it away, Now and foreverso what do you say? All of the bitter words said may be praise, One of these days. Dear, let’s not wither. Let’s branch out and rise Out of the byways and nearer the skies. Let’s spread some shade that’s refreshing and deep Where some tired traveller may lie down and sleep. Dear, let’s not tarry. Let’s do it right now. So much to do if we just find out how. We may not be here to help folks, or praise, One of these days. Dear, let’s not take it so sorely to heart, Hates may be friendships just drifted apart, Failure be genius not quite understood ; We could all help folk so much if we would. Dear, let’s get closer to somebody’s side, Learn what his dreams are and see how he tried, See if our scoldings won’t give way to praise One of these days. THE FORCE OF EXAMPLE. A Brooklyn young woman in the chorus of a musical comedy company playing in a near-by city almost took the breath of the local theatre manager one Saturday night after the performance with this question—- “ Would you be good enough to tell me where is the nearest Catholic church and how to reach it?” “Good Lord! said the surprised theatre man, “you’re not so religious as all that, are you?” “Well, I don’t know about, being religious, but I’m a Catholic, and I never missed Mass in my life, nor a First Friday either, and I don’t propose to begin now.” Well, you certainly are a good little girl,” came back the manager, “and we’ll go to eight o’clock Mass together to-morrow, for I’m a Catholic too, but not as good a one as you are.” Brooklyn Tablet. WHERE SOCIALISM FAILS. Rev. Father F. Askew, in the course of a lecture at Crosby, Lines, England, said it would be a great day both for the Christian Church and for Socialism in that country if the two ideals could be welded and made to serve as complimentary, rather than as antagonistic the one to the other. If the Christian Church of our day was to follow out the Gospel teaching, and so carry forward the work of Christ, it must be before all else the Church of the poor.” Hence there should be a noble and healthy rivalry between Socialists and believers in Revealed Truth to see who could actually do the greatest amount of good to the submerged tenth and life’s human shipwrecks. Catholics were hand in glove with Socialism in its forceful. protest against the selfishness and greed that their Faith had always taught to be a mortal sin. But they could not agree that man had no direct duties towards God, such as prayers and public worship. “To do all things for the greater honor and glory of God” seemed to them to be the one mainspring and consolation of a contented and successful life. The ideal most near and dear to their hearts would be to bring about the old regime of love of God and love of our workshops and our domestic circles until we “got back to God,” and nothing could bring about a lasting security of soul save the conscious knowledge that they were trying to do the holy will of the Heavenly Father. Here, then, were the two viewpoints of Socialism and of tradi-

tional Christianity in comparative juxtaposition. And what fine Christians many Socialists would make were their zeal and sincerity but the basis of a more comprehensive view of man's whole being and well-being! ARE THEY ALWAYS MISTAKES ? The compositor is one. of the most useful as well as one of the most exact of men, but he occasionally makes a mistake. - J Dr. Jowett, .the famous preacher; was his victim on one occasion. He was to speak at a mission at Birmingham, and handbills were issued to advertise the event. This was the last line on the bill : “Dr. Jowett and other fiends will address the meeting.” A local paper, in a laudatory notice of a V.C. who had been born in the town, referred to the hero, although he was well under thirty, as "the battle-scared veteran.” The hero only laughed, for he had formerly been in the printing business himself. At the coronation of King George a North-country paper, referring to the crowning of the Queen, said that four Knights of the Garter stood behind her “holding a dishcloth over her head.” A rich cloth was what the reporter had written. Perhaps the cruellest misprint ever perpetrated stated that someone in a public meeting rose to propose “the death of the chairman." This was bad enough, but was made worse by the following words: “Loud cheers.” A reporter who had set out to write a report of the visit of the bishop wrote: “When the learned prelate arrived the town was e.n fete,” but the report read that the town was “in fits.” HIS AUDIENCE. The candidate was giving the first speech of the campaign in a country district. The hall at first was pretty well filled, but the audience was not long in finding out that they did not like the speaker’s style of oratory, and began to leave. At last only one man remained. Still, he represented one vote, and as he listened with close attention the candidate felt encouraged to continue. At the end of fifteen minutes the speaker stopped and politely asked—“l beg your pardon. I hope I am not trespassing on your kindness. I shall have finished in ten minutes.” “Ten minutes?” said the listener. “You can go on as long as you like, for all I care : only don’t forget that you engaged me by the hour.” Then the candidate found that his earnest audience was the cabman who had driven him to the hall. TOO SLOW. A certain blacksmith, although an expert at his trade, was quite ignorant of surgical methods. When he sprained his wrist one afternoon he hurried to a doctor. The doctor examined the wrist and then took a small bottle from a shelf, but found it empty. “James," said he, turning to an assistant, “go upstairs and bring me down a couple of those phials.” “What’s that?" exclaimed the patient, suddenly showing signs of emotion. “I merely asked my assistant to bring me down a couple of phials from upstairs,” answered the doctor. “Files!” cried the blacksmith. "No you don’t! If that hand has got to come off use an axe or a saw !" ASSISTING NATURE. “Do you happen to be going far, sir?” said the inquisitive traveller to the man in the corner after having reduced everyone else in the compartment to silent frenzy. "Oh, no, only to Scotland,” replied the other sarcastically. “I am a commercial traveller. My ago is thirty-six. I am married. My name is Thomas Brown. I have a son of nineteen. He is in the Blankshire Buffs. My father died last July. He was on the Stock Exchange. My mother is still living. I have a

niece with ■ red hair. Our char-lady’s name is Jane Briggs, Is there anything else?” The inquisitive man hesitated. “What oil do you use for your tongue?” he inquired slowly. THEY NEVER GET THAT LENGTH. A vegetarian whose family was out of town went to breakfast at a restaurant and took a seat next to a stranger. The vegetarian took occasion to advertise his creed by telling the stranger that all meat was injurious, and that the human diet should be strictly vegetarian. “But,” replied the stranger, “I seldom eat meat.” “You just now ordered eggs,” said the vegetarian. ‘‘An egg is practically meat, because it eventually becomes a bird.” “The kind of eggs I eat never become birds,” answered the stranger. “Impossible!” cried the vegetarian. ‘‘What kind of eggs do you eat?” “Principally boiled eggs,” said the stranger. SMILE RAISERS. Jones; “What are you going to do now your slaughterman’s been called up?” Butcher: “Why, kill myself, of course.” ‘‘Did you see the pleased expression on Mrs. Blank’s face when I told her she looked no older than her daughter?” asked Mrs. Brown after the reception. “No,” said Mrs. Jones, ‘‘l was looking at the expression on her daughter’s face.” . Scene, a drawing-room. Married couple sitting down to a game of cards. She: ‘‘What are you going to play for?” He: ‘‘Anything you like.” She; ‘‘Let us play for a new jacket, dear. If you lose I shall have the choosing of it; and if I lose you shall.” Officer: ‘‘Conscientious objections? Rubbish! If you were to come home and find your wife fighting a burglar, wouldn't you interfere?”—“No, sir! I’d leave the burglar to his fate.” Short-sighted Officer: “It’s all right, my man; you can take off your mask now, the gas has passed.” Private: ‘‘Beggin’ yer pardon, sir; I ain’t got a mask on.” The pastor had waxed eloquent from the pulpit in describing a ship in distress. Then: ‘‘What are you going to do?” he cried. ‘‘Nay,” retorted an old sailor in the congregation, ‘‘you’ve got her in such a tarnation mess that I’m not sure it’s worth doin’ anything!” ‘‘My husband,” remarked a matron to a group of friends, “was a confirmed smoker, with a tobacco heart, when I married him a year ago, but to-day he never touches the weed.” “Good,” said one of the group. “To break off a lifetime habit requires a strong will.” “Well, that’s what I’ve got,” said the wife. Bobby was spending the afternoon at his aunt’s, and for several minutes had been gazing out of the window in a painfully thoughtful sort of way. “What makes you so serious, Bobby?” asked his aunt. ‘‘Why, ma told me I mustn’t ask for anything to eat, and I am trying awful hard to remember.”