fool. But, for that reason, is the fool to be wretched, utterly crushed down, and left in all the suffering which his conduct and capacity naturally inflict? Not so.

What do you suppose fools were made for? That you might tread upon them, and starve them, and get the better of them in every possible way? By no means. They were made that wise people might take care of them. That is the true and plain fact concerning the relations of every strong and wise man to the world about him. He has his strength given him, not that he may crush the weak, but that he may support and guide them. In his own household he is to be the guide and the support of his children; out of his household he is still to be the father, that is, the guide and support, of the weak and the poor; not merely of the meritoriously weak and innocently poor, but of the guiltily and punishably poor; of the men who ought to be ashamed of themselves.

It is nothing to give pension and cottage to the widow who has lost her son; it is nothing to give food and medicine to the workman who has broken his arm, or the decrepit woman wasting in sickness. But it is something to use your time and strength in war with the waywardness and thoughtlessness of mankind; to keep the erring workman in your service till you have made him an unerring one; and to direct your fellow-merchant to the opportunity which his dulness would have lost.

This is much, but it is yet more, when you have fully achieved the superiority which is due to you, and acquired the wealth which is the fitting reward of your sagacity, if you solemnly accept the responsibility of it, as it is the helm and guide of labor far and near. For you who have it in your hands are in reality the pilots of the power and effort of the State. It is entrusted

to you as an authority to be used for good or evil, just as completely as kingly authority was ever given to a prince, or military command to a captain. And according to the quantity of it you have in your hands you are arbiters of the will and work of the nation; and the whole issue, whether the work of the State shall suffice for the State or not, depends upon you.

You may stretch out your sceptre over the heads of the laborers, and say to them, as they stoop to its waving, "Subdue this obstacle that has baffled our fathers; put away this plague that consumes our children; water these dry places, plough these desert ones, carry this food to those who are in hunger; carry this light to those who are in darkness; carry this life to those who are in death;" or on the other side you may say: "Here am I; this power is in my hand; come, build a mound here for me to be throned upon, high and wide; come, make crowns for my head, that men may see them shine from far away; come, weave tapestries for my feet, that I may tread softly on the silk and purple; come, dance before me, that I may be gay, and sing sweetly to me, that I may slumber; so shall I live in joy, and die in honor." And better than such an honorable death it were that the day had perished wherein we were born.

I trust that in a little while there will be few of our rich men who, through carelessness or covetousness, thus forfeit the glorious office which is intended for their hands. I said, just now, that wealth ill used was as the net of the spider, entangling and destroying; but wealth well used is as the net of the sacred Fisher who gather souls of men out of the deep. A time will come I do not think it is far from us when this golden net of the world's wealth will be spread abroad as the flaming meshes of morning cloud over the sky; bearing with them the joy of

light and the dew of the morning, as well as the summons to honorable and peaceful toil.

RUSKIN.

FLASH

Flash was a white-foot sorrel, an' run on Number Three:

an average horse to see;

Not much stable manners
Notional in his methods - strong in loves and hates;
Not very much respected, or popular 'mongst his mates.

Dull an' moody an' sleepy, an' "off" on quiet days:
Full o' turbulent, sour looks, an' small, sarcastic ways;
Scowled an' bit at his partner, an' banged the stable floor
With other means intended to designate life a bore.

But when, be 't day or night time, he heard the alarm-bell ring,
He'd rush for his place in the harness with a regular tiger spring;
An' watch, with nervous shivers, the clasp of bickle an' band,
Until 'twas plainly evident he'd like to lend a hand.

An' when the word was given, away he would rush and tear,
As if a thousand witches was rumplin' up his hair,
An' craze the other horses with his magnetic charm,
Till every hoof-beat sounded a regular fire-alarm!

Never a horse a jockey would an' admire

Like Flash in front of his engine a-runnin' to a fire;
Never a horse so lazy, so dawdlin', an' so slack,

As Flash upon his return trip, a-drawin' the engine back.

Now, when the different horses gets tender footed an' old
They're no use in our business; so Flash was finally sold

To quite a respectable milkman, who found it not so fine
A-bossin one o' God's creatures outside its natural line.

Seems as if I could see Flash a-mopin' along here now,
Feeling that he was simply assistant to a cow;

But sometimes he'd imagine he heard the alarm-bell's din,
An' jump an' rear for a season before they could hold him in.

An' once, in spite o' his master, he strolled in 'mongst us chaps, To talk with the other horses, of former fires, perhaps;

Whereat the milkman kicked him; whereat, us boys to please, He begged that horse's pardon upon his bended knees.

But one day, for a big fire as we was makin' a dash,

Both o' the horses we had on somewhat resemblin' Flash, Yellin', and ringin' an' rushin', with excellent voice and heart, We passed the poor old fellow, a-tuggin' away at his cart.

If ever I see an old hoss grow upward into a new,

If ever I see a milkman whose traps behind him flew,
'Twas that old hoss, a-rearin', an' racin' down the track,
An' that respectable milkman a-tryin' to hold him back.

Away he rushed like a cyclone for the head o' "Number Three,"
Gained the lead, and kept it, an' steered his journey free;
Dodgin' wagons an' horses, an' still on the keenest "Silk"
An' furnishin' all the neighborhood with good, respectable milk.

Crowd a-yellin' an' runnin', an' vainly hollerin' “Whoa!”
Milkman bracin' an' sawin', with never a bit o' show;

Fireman laughin' an' chucklin', an' shoutin' "Good! go in!"
Hoss a-gettin' down to it, an' sweepin' along like sin.

Finally came where the fire was

halted with a "thud"

Sent the respectable milkman heels over head in mud;
Watched till he see the engines properly workin' there,
After which he relinquished all interest in the affair.

Moped an' wilted an' dawdled, "faded away" once more,
Took up his old occupation - considerin' life a bore;
Laid down in his harness, an' sorry I am to say

The milkman he had drawn there took his dead body away.

That's the whole o' my story: I've seen, more'n once or twice,
That poor dead animal's actions is full o' human advice;
An' if you ask what Flash taught, I'll simply answer, then,
That poor old horse was a symbol of some intelligent men.

An' if, as some consider, there's animals in the sky,

I think the poor old fellow is gettin' another try;

But if he should sniff the big fire that plagues the abode o' sin, It'll take the strongest angel to hold the old fellow in.

WILL CARLETON.

THE TRUE SPORTSMAN

The true sportsman would infinitely prefer to be beaten than to win unfairly or by any trick or cheating. Codes of honor differ, but the spirit of all rules of all games is to so play that the intrinsically best man or team shall win. Honor should be the