LABOR DAY

FIRST MONDAY IN SEPTEMBER

MEMORY GEMS

No man is born into the world whose work

Is not born with him;

There is always work,—and tools to work withal,

For those who will; and blessed be the horny hands of toil.

-J. R. Lowell.

Work for some good, be it ever so slowly;
Cherish some flower, be it ever so lowly;
Labor!-all labor is noble and holy.

-Frances S. Osgood.

Good cheer to help me bear the traveler's load,

And, for the hours of rest that come between,

And inward joy in all things heard and seen.

These are the sins I fain

Would have thee take away;

Malice and cold disdain,

Hot anger, sullen hate,

Scorn of the lowly, envy of the great.

And discontent that casts a shadow gray,

On all the brightness of the day.

-Henry van Dyke.

Pass, therefore not today in vain,
For it will never come again.

-Omar Khayyam.

The worthiness of life depends upon the way in which the every-day duties are done.-Theodore Roosevelt.

Nothing is gained without work.-French Proverb.

There is no work that is not honorable in the cause of humanity.

The greatest genius God ever gave a man is the genius of hard work.

-Edward Olney.

Round swings the hammer of industry,
Quickly the sharp chisel rings,

And the heart of the toiler has throbbings
That stirs not the bosom of kings.

'Tis not the blood of kith or kin,

"Tis not the color of the skin;

"Tis the true heart that beats within
Which make the man a man and brother.

Toil, I repeat-toil either of the brain, or of the heart, or of the hand, is the only true manhood, the only true nobility.

Talk not to me of the stock whence you grew;
But show me your stock by what you can do.

-Spurgeon.

From labor health, from health contentment springs.—Beattie.

He who is honest is noble

Whatever his fortune or birth.

-Alice Cary.

Boys of spirit, boys of will,

Boys of muscle, brain, and power,
Fit to cope with anything,—

These are wanted every hour.

The true test of civilization is not the census, nor the size of cities, nor the crops, but the kind of men the country turns out.

Small service is true service while it lasts.

-R. W. Emerson.

Of humblest friends, bright creature, scorn not one;
The daisy, by the shadow that it casts,

Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.

This is the gospel of labor

Sing it, ye bells of the kirk;

-Wordsworth.

The Lord of love came down from above
To live with the men who work.

This is the rose He planted,
Here is the thorn-curst soil;
Heaven is blest with a perfect rest,

But the blessing of earth is toil.

PLUCK

-Henry van Dyke.

Be firm.

One constant element of luck

Is genuine, solid, old Teutonic pluck.

See yon tall shaft? It felt the earthquake's thrill,
Clung to its base, and greets the sunlight still.

Stick to your aim; the mongrel's hold will slip
But only crow-bars loose the bulldog's grip;
Small as he looks, the jaw that never yields,
Drags down the bellowing monarch of the fields.

Yet, in opinions look not always back;
Your wake is nothing, mind the coming track;
Leave what you've done for what you have to do.
Don't be "consistent," but be simply true.

-Oliver Wendell Holmes.

Labor is rest from the sorrows that greet us,
Rest from all petty vexations that meet us,
Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us,
Rest from the world-sirens that lure us to ill.

Work, the pure Slumbers shall wait on thy pillow;
Work,-thou shalt ride over Care's coming billow;
Lie not down, wearied 'neath Woe's weeping willow!
Work with a stout heart and resolute will!

THE NOBLEST MEN

The noblest men that live on earth,

Are men whose hands are brown with toil; Who, backed by no ancestral graves,

Hew down the woods, and till the soil;

And win thereby a prouder name

Than follows king's or warrior's fame.

The working men, whate'er their task,
Who carve the stone or bear the hod,
They wear upon their honest brows

The royal stamp and seal of God;
And worthier are their drops of sweat
Than diamonds in a coronet.

God bless the noble working men,

Who rear the cities of the plain;
Who dig the mines, who build the ships,
And drive the commerce of the main.
God bless them! for their toiling hands
Have wrought the glory of all lands.

THE WILL AND THE WAY

It was a noble Roman,

In Rome's imperial day,
Who heard a coward croaker
Before the castle say,

"They're safe in such a fortress;
There is no way to shake it!"
"On, on," exclaimed the hero
"I'll find a way or make it!"

Is Fame your aspiration?

Her path is steep and high;
In vain he seeks her temple,
Content to gaze and sigh.
The shining throne is waiting;
But he alone can take it
Who says with Roman firmness,
"I'll find a way or make it!"

Is learning your ambition?

There is no royal road;

Alike the peer and peasant
Must climb to her abode,

Who feels the thirst for knowledge,
In Helicon may slake it,

If he has still the Roman will
"To find a way or make it!"

-John G. Saxe.

NOBILITY

True worth is in being, not seeming-
In doing each day that goes by
Some little good-not in dreaming
Of great things to do by and by.
For whatever men say in their blindness,
And spite of the fancies of youth,
There's nothing so kingly as kindness,
And nothing so royal as truth.

We get back our mete as we measure

We cannot do wrong and feel right;
Nor can we give pain and gain pleasure,
For justice avenges each slight.
The air for the wing of the sparrow,
The bush for the robin and wren;

But alway the path that is narrow

And straight, for the children of men.

"Tis not in the pages of story

The heart of its ills to beguile,

Though he who makes courtship to Glory
Gives all that he hath for her smile.

For when from her heights he has won her,
Alas! it is only to prove

That nothing's so sacred as honor,
And nothing so loyal as love!

We cannot make bargains for blisses,
Nor catch them like fishes in nets;
And sometimes the thing our life misses,

Helps more than the thing which it gets.

For good lieth not in pursuing,

Nor gaining of great nor of small,

But just in the doing; and doing

As we would be done by, is all.

Through envy, through malice, through hating,
Against the world early and late,

No jot of our courage abating

Our part is to work and to wait,

And slight is the sting of his trouble

Whose winnings are less than his worth;

For he who is honest is noble,

Whatever his fortunes or birth.

-Alice Cary.