The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 27 February 1919, Page 45

The Family Circle

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU SAY. In speaking of a person’s faults. Pray don’t forget your own; Remember those with house of glass Should seldom throw a stone. If we have nothing else to do But talk of those who sin, ’Tis better we commence at home And from that point begin.; We have no right to judge a man Until he’s fairly tried; Should we not like his company, We know the world is wide. Some have their faults, and who has not? The old as well as young Perhaps we may, for aught we know, , Have fifty to their one. I’ll tell you of a better plan. And find it works full well, To try my own defects to cure Before of others tell; And though I sometimes hope to be No worse than some I know. My shortcomings bid me let The faults of others go. Then let us all, when we commence To slander friend or foe. Think of the harm one word may do To those who little know. Remember curses, sometimes like Our chickens, roost at home; Don’t speak of others’ faults until We have none of our own.

YOUTHFUL INVENTORS. You might search through the archives of the Patent Office for a long while without finding the name of a child among those of venters; nevertheless there have been a number of instances where young folk have quickened the ingenuity of their elders. - . Once a Dutch spectacle-maker was busy within his shop, and in front of the door his children were playing. Toys were not as attractive or plentiful then as now, and the youngsters were fain to put up with some loose glasses which were intended in time to be fitted to spectacle frames. By accident, on© of the little fellows peered at a church steeple through two of the lenses, and _±he weathercock seemed in that way brought so near that he ran in to his father for an explanation of the strange phenomenon. The spectacle-maker was no less surprised than' his son, and went out to see for himself what a wonderful thing was done by the bits of glass. His amazement did not subside until he had projected an idea which he afterwards carried out, and produced an instrument by means of which astronomers might search the paths of the stars. The Argand burner takes its name from the poor Swiss who invented it ; but the use of the chimney in connection with it was due to the thoughtless experiments of his little brother, who, for want of something to do, amused himself by placing an old bottomless oil flask over one article after another. The principle of the burner is simplicity itself, owing its superiority to the fact that a round flame was supplied with oxygen from the interior as well as the outside but when the youngster happened to place the broken flask over the wick there shot up so beautiful and clear a blaze that Argand was led to think of the chimney which would make the Argand burner a boon to humanity. These are only some of the instances in which, accidentally +h a i. - , , •• i ■■■ j .i J . .r*"' t ,a,±v > j L,uu g ijcuimj wave helped the inventions of grown-ups.—-re Maria.

THE CATHOLIC HABIT OF PRAYER.

. Nothing bespeaks the practical Catholic so much as the salutary habit of prayer. In temptation,- in each surprise of danger, in fear,. anguish, or grief, the well-trained soul, like a confiding child running to the protecting arms of -its mother, turns instinctively to God, and in so doing but follows the maxim of our Lord to “Pray always.” ; Prayer for the Catholic is the armor of the soul which from constant use is kept clean and bright; it is the ever-present shield against which the fiery darts of enemies strike, but are powerless to harm. It is as natural for the good Catholic to pray as to breathe, and prayer will always spring spontaneously to his heart and lips with even the first intimation of danger. If he be victorious over temptation; if he be successful in overcoming an inclination to evil ; if he is to accomplish any good whatsoever, it is traceable always to prayer. All good things must come to him through prayer. When prayer ceases, the spiritual life of the Catholic ceases, and when the spiritual and practical part of the Catholic life is laid aside, all merit-gaining works are likewise laid aside or forgotten. Catholic life without good works becomes weakened, and that faith which is not stimulated by good works soon becomes a dead faith. AN OLD CUSTOM. You have wondered, no doubt, why the weathercock sometimes surmounts the cross upon the spires of old churches. This is a survival of an ancient custom. A ball was placed under the cross, to represent the world which was saved by Christ; and the cock symbolised the repentance of St. Peter, and the duty of Christian vigilance, in remembrance of those words of our Blessed Lord: “Watch and pray, that you enter not into temptation.”

A FIBBING FISHER. Whenever a boy proposes to angle. With a hook like this he prefers- to dangle : J He gets him a line that is fine and strong, And he catches a fish just about so long Before he comes home it’s of far bigger size, And he tells his friends ’twould open their eyes. Just see how they wonder to hear his lies.: oo oo oo oo L - i • L ! . —~j HIS ADVICE. He was a young lawyer, and the judge thought he would give him a chance. So he instructed : “Mr. Smith, suppose you take , the prisoner into my private room, have a talk with him, hear his story, and then, as man to- man, give him the best advice that you can ? Then come back and report to the court.” The young lawyer disappeared, and in half an hour he returned to the courtroom, but minus his client, the prisoner. “Go ahead, Mr. Smith; tell the court the result of your talk,” instructed the judge, “Well, your honor, I heard his story,” answered the young lawyer, “and I saw at once that he had no chance at all. If ever a man is guilty, that man is. He acknowledges every point.” “Well, bring in the prisoner,” said the judge. “Bring in the prisoner?” echoed the young lawyer, in surprise. “Why, I can’t your Honor. I did as you instructed.- I gave him the best advice I i knew.” “Well, what was it?” asked the judge. • ■ “Why,” said the young lawyer, “I saw he had not the ghost of a chance, and I told him if I were Ini ms piace x u. get out of your window, slide down ' the water-pipe, and beat it. And he did !”

. r ■ HIS NAME. . .;,r. A Dublin car-driver was stopped for dangerous driving by a zealous constable. He refused to give his namd. “Ye must give me yer name,” was the reply. “Ye’ll only get yourself into worse trouble, young man,” said the constable, “if ye don’t give me yer name. “I won’t give my name,” said the dogged driver. “Now, then, what is it?” persisted the constable. “Ye had better find out,” retorted the driver. “Sure and I will,” said the constable, proceeding round to the side of the car where the name ought to have been, only to find it rubbed off. “Aha said the constable, “now ye’ll get yerself into worse disgrace than ever, for yer name’s obliterated.” “You’re wrong,” roared the driver; “ ’tis O’Brien . SMILE-RAISERS. “No,” said the editor, “we can not use your poem.” “Why,” asked the poet; “is it too long?” “Yes,” hissed the editor, “it’s too long, and too wide, and too thick.” ■ ■ a “I don’t think I deserve zero on this examination,” said the pupil, as he took his geometry papers. “No, I do not either, John, but that was the lowest I could give you,” said the teacher. “Ruth, I’m really surprised at you, putting out your tongue at people!” “It was all right, .mother; it was only the doctor going past.” Jones: “I heard to-day that your son is an undertaker. I thought you told me he was a physician?” Smith: “Oh, no. I only said that he followed the medical profession!” ■ -J Customer: “Were you at Balaclava, may I ask?” Tailor: “No. What makes you ask such a question?” Customer: “Only that you charge so magnificently.” “How fast is Myrtle getting on with her knitting ?” “About fifteen knots an hour.” ■ ■ 4 “What is a triple alliance. Tommy?” “It’s when pa and ma and the school-teacher agree that I ought to have a lickin’.” They had lost their way in their new and expensive car. _ “There’s a sign, dear. Are we on the right road ?” With his electric torch he read, “To the Poorhouse.” “Yes,’.’ he answered. We’re on the right road, and we didn’t know it.” Mrs. Much: “What dreadful language your parrot uses !”■ ' Mrs. Nothing: “Yes, my husband bought the bird one day and brought it home in his car, and I have, always suspected that he had engine trouble during the journey.”