But human bodies are sic fools,
  For a’ their colleges an’ schools,
  That when nae real ills perplex them,
  They mak enow themsels to vex them;
  An’ ay the less they hae to sturt them,
  In like proportion less will hurt them.

Robert Burns

UNDISMAYED

A convict explained to a visitor why he had been sent to the penitentiary.  “They can’t put you in here for that!” the visitor exclaimed.  “They did,” replied the convict.  So smiling seems a futile thing.  Apparently it cannot get us anywhere—­but it does.

  He came up smilin’—­used to say
  He made his fortune that-a-way;
  He had hard luck a-plenty, too,
  But settled down an’ fought her through;
  An’ every time he got a jolt
  He jist took on a tighter holt,
  Slipped back some when he tried to climb
  But came up smilin’ every time.

  He came up smilin’—­used to git
  His share o’ knocks, but he had grit,
  An’ if they hurt he didn’t set
  Around th’ grocery store an’ fret. 
  He jist grabbed Fortune by th’ hair
  An’ hung on till he got his share. 
  He had th’ grit in him to stay
  An’ come up smilin’ every day.

  He jist gripped hard an’ all alone
  Like a set bull-pup with a bone,
  An’ if he got shook loose, why then
  He got up an’ grabbed holt again. 
  He didn’t have no time, he’d say,
  To bother about yesterday,
  An’ when there was a prize to win
  He came up smilin’ an’ pitched in.

  He came up smilin’—­good fer him! 
  He had th’ grit an’ pluck an’ vim,
  So he’s on Easy Street, an’ durned
  If I don’t think his luck is earned! 
  No matter if he lost sometimes,
  He’s got th’ stuff in him that climbs,
  An’ when his chance was mighty slim,
  He came up smilin’—­good fer him!

James W. Foley.

From “Tales of the Trail.”

A HERO

If defeat strengthens and sweetens character, it is not defeat at all, but victory.

  He sang of joy; whate’er he knew of sadness
    He kept for his own heart’s peculiar share: 
  So well he sang, the world imagined gladness
    To be sole tenant there.

  For dreams were his, and in the dawn’s fair shining,
    His spirit soared beyond the mounting lark;
  But from his lips no accent of repining
    Fell when the days grew dark;

  And though contending long dread Fate to master,
    He failed at last her enmity to cheat,
  He turned with such a smile to face disaster
    That he sublimed defeat.

Florence Earle Coates.

From “Poems.”

WILL

“I can resist anything but temptation,” says a character in one of Oscar Wilde’s plays.  Too many of us have exactly this strength of will.  We perhaps do not fall into gross crime, but because of our flabby resolution our lives become purposeless, negative, negligible.  No one would miss us in particular if we were out of the way.