ground! 
  Look!  Now the clouds are lighter I can see
  The long slow lashing of the sinewy tails,
  And the set quiver of strong jaws that wait—! 
  Go there?  Not I!  Who dares to go who sees
  So perfectly the lions in the path?

Comes one who dares. 
Afraid at first, yet bound
On such high errand as no fear could stay. 
Forth goes he, with lions in his path. 
And then—? 
He dared a death of agony—­
Outnumbered battle with the king of beasts—­
Long struggles in the horror of the night—­
Dared, and went forth to meet—­O ye who fear! 
Finding an empty road, and nothing there—­
And fences, and the dusty roadside trees—­
Some spitting kittens, maybe, in the grass.

Charlotte Perkins Gilman.

From “In This Our World.”

THE ANSWER

Bob Fitzsimmons lacked the physical bulk of the men he fought, was ungainly in build and movement, and not infrequently got himself floored in the early rounds of his contests.  But many people consider him the best fighter for his weight who ever stepped into the prize ring.  Not a favorite at first, he won the popular heart by making good.  Of course he had great natural powers; from any position when the chance at last came he could dart forth a sudden, wicked blow that no human being could withstand.  But more formidable still was the spirit which gave him cool and complete command of all his resources, and made him most dangerous when he was on the verge of being knocked out.

  When the battle breaks against you and the crowd forgets to cheer
  When the Anvil Chorus echoes with the essence of a jeer;
  When the knockers start their panning in the knocker’s nimble way
  With a rap for all your errors and a josh upon your play—­
  There is one quick answer ready that will nail them on the wing;
  There is one reply forthcoming that will wipe away the sting;
  There is one elastic come-back that will hold them, as it should—­
  Make good.

  No matter where you finish in the mix-up or the row,
  There are those among the rabble who will pan you anyhow;
  But the entry who is sticking and delivering the stuff
  Can listen to the yapping as he giggles up his cuff;
  The loafer has no come-back and the quitter no reply
  When the Anvil Chorus echoes, as it will, against the sky;
  But there’s one quick answer ready that will wrap them in a hood—­
  Make good.

Grantland Rice.

From “The Sportlight.”

THE WORLD IS AGAINST ME

Babe Ruth doesn’t complain that opposing pitchers try to strike him out; he swings at the ball till he swats it for four bases.  Ty Cobb doesn’t complain that whole teams work wits and muscles overtime to keep him from stealing home; he pits himself against them all and comes galloping or hurdling or sliding in.  What other men can do any man can do if he works long enough with a brave enough heart.