And away from its worries stay;

The present has wealth you would never suspect, If prudent you are, and wisely elect

To live in the light of to-day.

The things that are past did very well once;
To-day they are rusty and stale.

That trouble you had with your fellow man
Did you struggle in vain and fail?
What of it, indeed?

There is all the more need

That you start on a different trail. Don't take to the woods whatever you do, Just look right ahead; there's a fortune for you In keeping a well-trimmed sail.

So cramped can we be in our mental states,
So burdened with might-have-beens,
That life will become a woful waste

For its many outs and ins.

But stop and reflect

You will never be wrecked

By your own or another's sins,

If the past you will keep in its proper place And meet what is yours with a candid face'Tis the man of to-day who wins.

NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

[Found in the knapsack of a soldier of the Civil War after he had been slain in battle.]

Near the camp-fire's flickering light,

In my blanket bed I lie,

Gazing through the shades of night
And the twinkling stars on high;
O'er me spirits in the air

Silent vigils seem to keep,

As I breathe my childhood's prayer,
"Now I lay me down to sleep."

Sadly sings the whip-poor-will
In the boughs of yonder tree;
Laughingly the dancing rill

Swells the midnight melody.
Foemen may be lurking near,

In the cañon dark and deep;
Low I breathe in Jesus' ear:

"I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep."

'Mid those stars one face I see

One the Saviour turned away –
Mother, who in infancy

Taught my baby lips to pray;
Her sweet spirit hovers near

In this lonely mountain-brake.

Take me to her Saviour dear

"If I should die before I wake."

Meanwhile, at home, their brother Fred
Had taken a notion into his head;
But he quietly trimmed his apple trees,
And weeded onions and planted peas,
While somehow or other, by hook or crook,
He managed to read full many a book.
Until at last his father said

He was getting "book larnin'" into his head;
"But for all that," added Farmer Brown,
"He's the smartest boy there is in town."

The war broke out and Captain Fred
A hundred men to battle led,
And when the rebel flag came down,
Went marching home as General Brown.
But he went to work on the farm again,
And planted corn and sowed his grain;
He shingled the barn and mended the fence,
Till people declared he had common sense.

Now, common sense was very rare,
And the State House needed a portion there;
And his brothers, who went to the city school,
Came home to live with "mother's fool."

NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

[Found in the knapsack of a soldier of the Civil War after he had been slain in battle.]

Near the camp-fire's flickering light,

In my blanket bed I lie,

Gazing through the shades of night
And the twinkling stars on high;
O'er me spirits in the air

Silent vigils seem to keep,

As I breathe my childhood's prayer,
"Now I lay me down to sleep."

Sadly sings the whip-poor-will
In the boughs of yonder tree;
Laughingly the dancing rill

Swells the midnight melody.
Foemen may be lurking near,

In the cañon dark and deep;
Low I breathe in Jesus' ear:

"I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep."

'Mid those stars one face I see

One the Saviour turned away
Mother, who in infancy

Taught my baby lips to pray;
Her sweet spirit hovers near
In this lonely mountain-brake.

Take me to her Saviour dear

"If I should die before I wake."

Fainter grows the flickering light,
As each ember slowly dies;
Plaintively the birds of night
Fill the air with sad'ning cries;
Over me they seem to cry:
"You may never more awake.”
Low I lisp: "If I should die,

I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to take."

Now I lay me down to sleep;
I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,

I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to take.

THE OLD SONGS

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

These ragtime songs they're singin' now may be the proper thing,

But they don't hit me like the songs us youngsters used to sing.

I never hear no ragtime songs, no matter where I roam, Kin makes the heartstrings quiver like "My Old Kentucky Home."

"Lorena" was another song that all our heartstrings wrung

Around at social gatherin's when us old folks was young.

We'd "Wait Fer the Wagon," an' we'd tell of "Nellie

Gray,"