The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 16 October 1919, Page 45

The Family Circle

IF YOU ARE WISE. Don’t look for the flaws as you go through life; \ And even when you find them • It is wise and kind to be somewhat blind And look for the virtue behind them. • For the cloudiest night has a hint of light Somewhere in its shadows hiding; It is better by far to hunt for a star Than the spots on the sun abiding. The current of life runs ever away To tho bosom of God’s great ocean. Don’t set your force ’gainst the river’s course And think to alter its motion. Don’t waste a curse on the universe Remember, it lived before you. Don’t butt at the storm with your puny form— But bend and let it go o’er you. The world will never adjust itself To suit your whims to the letter. Some things must go wrong your whole life long, And the sooner you know it the better. It is folly to fight with the Infinite, And go under at last in the wrestle. The wiser man shapes into God’s plan As the water shapes into a vessel. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox. A MIDDY’S EXAMPLE. Have you over heard tell of Captain Byng’s midshipman? asks a writer in the CornKiU. I forget his name, but he started his first night , aboard ship by kneeling down and saying his prayers, as his mother had taught him; the crowd of his fellow-midshipmen found it against the custom of the service, and gave him the strap for it. This, however, raised him up a champion in one of the taller lads, who protested that their conduct was tyrannous; “and,” said he, very generously, “to-morrow night I too propose to say my prayers. If anyone objects, he may fight me.” Thus, being a handy lad with his fists, he established the right of religious liberty on board. By-and-by one or two of the better-disposed midshipmen followed his example; by degrees the custom spread along the lower deck, where the dispute had happened in full view of the whole ship’s company, seamen and marines; and by the time she reached her port of Halifax she hadn’t a man on boardoutside tho wardroom —who did not say his prayers regularly. At Halifax Captain Byng took aboard out of hospital another small midshipman, who on his first night no sooner climbed into his hammock than the entire mess bundled him out of it. “We would have you to know, young man,” said they, “that private devotion is the .rule on board our ship. Down on your knees this minute, or you’ll get the strap.” SONG IN IRISH: MAIRIN DE BARRA. T. A Vairin do Barra, do vairv tu m’ inntinn ! D’fhag tu duwach dealv me i gan fhios doin' vuintir! Air mo luiye ghom air mo leabaig is ort a vim a’ cuiwneav A’s air m’ eirye ghom air maidin; mar do chealg tu an croiyo ionam. Roughly:—Mairin do Barra! you have wrecked my mind: you have left me sad and destitute though none of my own folk guess it as I lie on my bed, you alone fill my thought, and so whe.n I rise in the morning—for you have put your spell on the heart within me. 11. Hugas agus hugas a’s hugas ora chroiye greann duit Air maidin lae le Muire na gcoinneal san teampall; Do huilin ba ghlaise na uisge na ngeawarha, Is do veilin ba vinne na an druid nuair a lawrann. Roughly:—l gave you, from my heart I gave you, my love, on that Candlemas morning in the chapel: I fell in love with your dear eye brighter than the dew on the wheat of the spring, and your dear .mouth sweeter sounding than the thrush in* his talk. (Usually the starling. Here as in Scots Gaelic.) ITT. Do hil me tu vealla’ le briahra a’s le poga; Do hil me tu vealla’ le leawarha a’s le moide:' Do hil me tu vealla’ air vreaca’ na h-eornan—-Ach d’ fhag tu duwach dealv me air heacht don mbliayain nua’ me.

Roughly:—-I thought to beguile you with my talk and kisses:' I thought to win you with oaths on the Book w-hen the barley was yellowing (speckling) I thought to wile, you, but the ■ New Year V has come i and still you have left me gloomy and broken.;/;.. - .:.,

• IV. . Do hiuwloyainn a’s do hiuwloyainn a’s do hiuwloyainn' an saoyal leat . Do rayainn liar saile gan gha fi(n)ginn spre leat: ' ,J; Do hug mo chroiye-gra’ ghuit go brah, brah, na treigfhiy. Is do leiyeasfa on mbas ■ me /ach. a rlia* gur leat fein mo. Roughly: —I would walk the world with you: .without a ..penny of a fortune from you I would cross the seas with you: my heart has given you a love that to the day of doom will not fail, and* you’d snatch me (heal me) from death if only you’d call me your own. Stephen Mac Kenna, in New Ireland, LONG MASSES AND SHORT. There is a rather good story told of an 18th-century Bishop. A lady having complained to him one day about the excessive length of the Sunday Mass, lie replied: Madam, tis not the Mass that is too long, but your devotion that is too short.” ' Still better is tho narrative of the saintly Princess olkowska s explanation of very lengthy and very brief offerings of the Holy Sacrifice. It was a rule of the Princess’s life never to say a word contrary to charity about >any person or thing whatever. A witty young duchess of her acquaintance set out one day to make her violate this rule, and this is the way she went about her task: “My dear Princess,” said she, “I know that you habitually hear daily Mass at the Church of St. Andrew delle Fratte. Well, now, does not one of the priests there try your patience almost beyond endurance ? He drones along so slowly that his Mass takes up regularly well-nigh an hour of one’s time.” “Why, my dear,” replied the Princess, “do you find that disagreeable? I am sorry to differ from you, but I must, decidedly. What happiness it is to be able to recollect one’s self at each phase of the Holy Sacrifice, to meditate at one’s leisure upon the great mystery, to recommend without precipitation one’s parents and- friends! I confess, that for my part, I attend through preference tho Mass of that very priest.” “Very well,” said the duchess; “but in that case, you can’t like the Mass of Father X., who acquits himself of the sacred function so expeditiously that ho hardly keeps the congregation longer than 25 minutes.” “But, my dear friend,” gently rejoined her companion, “you are reasoning somewhat lightly. Just think of the busy people—the clerks, the poor servants whose time is so limited! It is all well enough for us great ladies to take our time and accomplish at our leisure even our exercises of piety; hut, then, everyone has not tho same latitude. If these persons remained too long in church, they would be reprimanded by their clients or the ; r employers. Would you, therefore, deprive them of the benefit. of being present at tho Holy Sacrifice? Father X’s is just the Mass that suits them. Providence, my dear duchess, arranges everything well; the first priest for us, the second for them.”— Maria. COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS. Have you sorrows? You must bear them Without murmur, without moan; Think not you may shirk or share them; Keep them for yourself alone. But if you have joys—oh, show them, Broadcast to the winds go throw them, Seed-like through the world go sow them, And be glad when they are sown ! Have you trials? You must face them Without grumble, without groan; Burdens? Then be sure to place them On no shoulders but your own. But if you have aught that’s cheerful, . Give it forth to calm the fearful, Give it forth to soothe the tearful, Sing it, ring it, make it known ! Thus it is the noble-hearted Live until their day is flown; Thus they lift and thus they lighten, As a bugle-blast is blown; Thus it is they help and heighten, Thus they lift and they lighten Souls less steadfast than their own! Denis A. McCarthy. SIMPLE HONESTY. In a beautiful valley of the “Haut Valais” tourists often v love to stroll from the great hotel to the quaint little villages around. One day an English lady lost a valuable gold brooch, and after searching for it in vain

all through the village where she had walked about, the thought occurred to her to ask the priest’s help. She told him to let his ; people know that whoever would find the trinket and restore it should have a reward. The good pastor replied: “No, madam, no reward is needed: they would be surprised at it and it would spoil their native honesty. In these mountains the . people are still simple and unspoiled. I shall ask them to look for it, and doubtless they will succeed, but, please, no reward! It would bo an evil Two days after the brooch was found by a little shepherd boy and brought to the priest, who returned it to tho lady. This latter contented herself by dropping an offering into St. Anthony’s box, which was in the little village church, but how in her heart of hearts she admired the simple honesty of those plain, rough mountaineers as she compared them with the city throngs and their struggle for more, always more!Alas! if only the world could return somewhat to its primitive simplicity. , NOT ELIGIBLE. “Of course, madam, I would not be expected to light the fire?” “Certainly not,” replied the mistress. “Nor to sweep the floors?” “Certainly not.” “Nor to attend to the door?” “Of course not.” “Nor to wait at table?” “No. I want none of these things,” said madam, with her sweetest smile. “The only thing I require a servant for is to look at her, and for this you are far too plain.” MIGHT HAVE BEEN WORSE. A squad of men was engaged at rifle practice at a certain coast town in Scotland. A farmer and his man were at the same time carting * sand from the beach at the back of and underneath the target at which the riflemen were firing. The bullets were supposed to be quite safe, but a stray bullet caught the man in the leg. He dropped to the ground, exclaiming: “I’m shot!” The farmer hurriedly scrambled up the bank, and, frantically waving his hands to the party, shouted : “Hey, lads, stop that shootin’, will ye? Ye’ve shot the man, and it might have been the horse.” THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED. He stood amid the blaze and splendor of his magnificent mansion, and in his hand he held the portrait of a beautiful woman. His face was pale and haggard, and his lips moved convulsively. What was this mystery ? Was this the picture of his departed wife ? No. Was it the portrait of his dead but dearly remembered daughter ? No. What, then, was the cause of his haggard face? Was it not the same portrait that two minutes ago had fallen from its nail, and raised a lump as big as a hen’s egg on his head ? It was. SMILE RAISERS. “You must confine yourself to a light diet,” said the doctor, gravely. “No fear,” said John junior. “I knew a man who died through putting himself too much on a light diet.” “Really?” said the doctor. “Yes, he ate the phosphorous ends off matches.” “You love my daughter?” said the father. “Love her,” he exclaimed, passionately. “Why, I would die for her. For one soft glance from those sweet eyes I would hurl myself from yonder cliff and perish a bruised mass upon the rocks two hundred feet below.” The old man shook his head. “I’m something of • a liar myself,” he said, “and one is enough for a small family like mine.” “Yes, it’s a splendid house,” said the possible purchaser, “but I’m told it’s haunted.” “Haunted!” ejaculated the pushful house agent, rubbing his hands and grinning in oily fashion. “Why, so it .is but you need have no fear, , sir. I attend to that personally, and this particular ghost is really ell trained. It never appears unless the tenant refuses to pay his rent.”