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The San Francisco Sunday Call
Our Creed WE BELIEVE in the development of the women of today, and we have in our editorial mind a great many things stored away for their advantage. We shall use them as wo see fit, but invariably for the benefit of women, and with a single thought toward their advancement. We believe in the progress of woman in the business world, faaid to this end are published countless articles and sketches calculated to vfeiiligrhten those who have already entered this hurried walk of life. '}[."\u25a0\u25a0', We believe in continuous improvement of the social life along its best \u25a0Conventional side, and to this end are given forth ideas galore for the fjftirtheranco of "that code by which we live so that we may come in con ' idd : with our fellow men and women without offense." • \u25a0And then we believe in helping along the growth of women who live the homo life. Here in our column is planted every available root that will \u25a0grow and bud and blossom forth into perfect fruit for the nourishing of home ideals. ; We believe, moreover, in the personal life of women and in furthering, through sketch and story, every individual thought that will take them along the path of personal development. believe in the progress of woman along avenues of learning — in tho ascendency of womankind by the way of the ladder of culture. ; ;\u25a0 A glimpse into these furtheT reaches may be hers at our expense. We Might Have Been WE MIGHT have been! These are but com mon words. And yet they make the sum of life's bewailing; .They are the echo of those finer chords, : .;Wrhose music life deplores when un •.;\u25a0.. availing. We might have been! We might have been so happy! says the . child. Pent In the weary schoolroom during summer. \u25a0When the green rushes 'mid the S" : . marshes wld, , :' "And rosy fruits, attend the radiant . . comer. We might have been! •It 'is the thought that darkens on our '.'\u25a0- youth. >:.When first experience— sad experience :'.",. ;, — teaches .What fallacies we have believed for ''\u25a0]\u25a0 truth. ;;•' Aria what few truths endeavor ever .\u25a0.\u25a0:'\u25a0."•; reaches. We might hay© been! Alas.' How different from what we are •Had we but known the bitter path ••\u25a0 before us; But feelings, hopes and fancies left Hats On and Why ;T N REFERENCE to that little matter .1 of the masculine hat during elevator '"*— * travel, let us look the matter and the wearer squarely In the face and try V to hit the hat on the head. Being a gentleman covers a pood deal of ground, and not infreque ntly It makes a good be ginning at the top of the head. There Is not one among us who can afford to neglect his personal appareL "M an'i earthly interests." Carlyle tells us, "are all hooked and buttoned tog ether and held up *by clothes." and we have not under stood that the hat is out of the count; but be these sepa rate garments wnat they may, their cost makes very little matter In the long run. but there's everything in the way we wear them. Politeness Is not put on and taken off with the hat. but just the reverse. But <to the elevator! which is neither your home nor mine, but common ground, where all men are free and equal. "And all women," pleads Lazy Lawrence, who contends that the equal ity movement permits ot his keeping his hat on in the office "lift." Says he: "The hotel elevator and the apartment elevator are in a so-called private house, and there only am I required to remove my hat. The railway station, the de partment store and the office building elevators are a different thing altogether. In tliem I am out of doors. I raise my hat if I meet my own acquaintances, and I pat it on again." So far so good-^or so bad. as you please to view it. Masculine reasons for cling ing to the hat are not edifying on paper. It disturbs the hair of the d*j?per to needlessly remove and replace it. Some are subject to coWs, and the elevator is, at beta, a draughty place, and, therefore, impassible to the scant of hair. One who "knows he is as polite as any body" (and this isn't saying much) sees nb £en*e in taking off his hat, and a brother to this Chesterfield pleads that the usual run of men keep them on. and, therefore, so does he. As a reason, this last reaches a limit hard to pass. "It Is quite too much trouble." says Weary Willy, and there are hordes who have no real reason to offer except that they just won't, so they Just don't, and this last is an attitude altogether com plimentary to the women who ride. The man with a cold In his head is, of course, excusable, seeing that no one will arise out of the hurly-burly or spring— fairy -like— out of the elevator to pay his doctor bill. But the others? Well, their reasons are as weak as those of two men whose wives confronted them at a matinee in business hours on one of the most perfect days of spring. FOR THE WOMAN WHO THINKS AND FEELS afar, What In the wide bl c a k world can e'er restore us? We might have been! It is the motto of all human things, The end of all that waits on mortal seeking; The weary -weight upon hope** flagging wings, • It Is the cry of the worn heart while breaking. We might have been! Life is made up of miserable hours. And all of which we craved & brief possessing:. For which we wasted wishes, hopes and powers, Comes with some fatal drawback on the blessing, We" might have been! The future never renders to the past The young beliefs Intrusted to Its keeping; Inscribe one sentence— life's first truth and last- On the pale marble where our dust Is sleeping— We might have been! — Letltia Elizabeth Landon. "Wandered In to keep \u25a0warm," ventured one, while the other murmured some thing about getting cooled off. That man who rides in an elevator with a woman of his acquaintance and is carried roofward gratis with his hat still on is a positive burden to the man who Is a gentleman born and who, getting on. would raise, and keep raised, his hat as in the presence of any wom an, and he does it to his great discom fort, because he places the other man at a disadvantage, which embarrasses the woman. There are a choice few, who, knowing, do the correct and gentlemanly act without fair, and to these excuses are unknown. These are they who proclaim no reasons for or against politeness, but with whom it is innate. They would as soon sit 6tlU in front of a waiting wom an in a trolley car during a twenty-mile ride as they would stand hatted while they rub ehoulders with a woman or two in a 6 by 5 lift. The proverbial "woman's reason" for removing the hat may be about as shal low as those masculine suggestions for keeping it on; but several are offered by \u25a0way of diversion and that they may clear the air of a coming storm— and then, too, altruism enters in. Now the feminine hat is large and its . saw-tooth edges threaten to decapitate, but the man who would dodge it finds a worse snare in the pointed hat pin. Gentlemen, your headpiece held before you as a shield is the cor rect and reasonable disposal of the \u25a0 summer hat, while' elevating. It is the one .protection pro vided for modern man against this feminine foible. \u25a0 . And then, too, your hair needs a tonic. Small doses of atmosphere, my friends, .are equal to a mediocre mas sage; and prolonged fresh-air treatment is the Inexpensive equivalent, any day, of crude petroleum. .... The Age-to Marry THE reiponsibllity of marriage either varies with the country or else there is a marked difference In judgment as to just what ages of man and woman are the ones to carry the duties of married life in a mature and successful way. v. In Germany a "man" in- order to marry must be at least 18 years of age. s In Spain the bridegroonrmust be over 14 and the bride over 12 years of age. - In Austria a couple are supposed to be capable of conducting a home of their own from the age of 14. In France the man must be IS and the woman 16 before they are allowed to marry. Cozy Cove AND bo It was all over, and there was nothing to do but to make the best of it. He had not msde a i scene, nor attempted 'to be heroic, and she had been very matter of fact and quite decisive. She could not love him, did not to marry him, and was very, very sorry he had been led to believe that she could and did. but It had not been her fault. They had known each other a week, and, 'lf he had thought she was such an easy conquest as that, well, she was very sorry, but he was quite mistaken, and would he please take her back to camp as quickly as possible, as she had to pack. Her manner had left him no room tor any doubt of her sincerity. and he had started to paddle listlessly back to the tents, until the nervous tapping of her foot against the Tibs of the canoe convinced j him that there was need, for haste, and a few deep strokes brought them up on the shore. He steadied the canoe while she stepped out upon tLe big rock that served as a landing, watched her as she slowly walked up the little beach, backed off and turned up stream. She was going in an hour, they would not see each other again, and she had not even turn ed to say "Good-bye." Very well. He could bear it and be as proud as she was disdainful; and he paddlted slowly up the stream where their party had been camped for the last weqjc. He would stay away for that hour, and when he came back she would be gone. It had been of so little conse quence to her that he would not let her see how much it meant to him; aVid, meanwhile, it was good to be alone, and be had much to think of. He was out of sight of the tents now, hidden by a curve and the clump of pines that seemed to have slid down from the upper hills to the water's edge. A turn of the blade brought him close to the water logged stump that had almost over turned them that first day, when her coolness and bravery had so won his ad miration, before he had known her an hour. She had been such a sport. The splashing of her white dress and the probability of an upset had not alarmed her in the least, and she had laughed go adorably when he had feared the water would spot the skirt. And here was the eteep little cliff, ris ing from the water's edge, where the tiny ferns grew and the mosses that she had insisted on gathering for herself. She bad clambered out oi the canoe and up a ledge scarcely wide enough to give her a foothold, in spite of his sugges tion that it was risky, and had laughed pluokily enough and actually dared him to go away and leave her when he had backed the canoe away from under her and asked her what she was going to do about it. Oh, she had been a good com rade and a good sport! And she had not been afraid of the water. He won dered, moodily, why she had laughed Ancestor Worship WE DO not have to travel to China for this. It exists In a very ag gravated form In this land of freedom and equality. It Is Just as ma lignant as .In other countries where classes of society exist, and where titles • —I refuse to say of nobility— are handud down or bought. .The pride of birth Is a foolish pride, and just' as soon as you realize- that a man- is , to: be judged by, what he Is and not who his great-grand father-was will there be a true and just valuation of people. w.- ' , .: "Oh. he is descended from one: of the flrst governors of Massachusetts," "is a more influential card of admission than anything that the man has done. . If a woman can trace' her descent .from . a very Inferior class of titled * good-for? nothings ;In a remote province ~ofv a . European country she will "apprise you .of the fact. She knows that It has f weight with the majority of Americans. ; I know of one woman who 'proudly flaunts a crest on ring, carriage and pil low cushions. She doesn't know very" much of history— all -of her time : has been given-to rooting) around In musty books tracing her ; ; connection " with 'a' certain character'that It ; were - well j not : to .*\u25a0 mention in \u25a0 polite society.' .: But « he was -a ."noble 1 ; and -his arm was heavy enough to change a few .boundary, lines in the eiden! times; So my friend? talks : about the "castle" that is really i hers and insists upon your recognition- of the fact 'that- she; is a descendant of Athls' great (and bad) man. -;.; : An amusing incident I;reeall, when a when he asked If she were afraid. Girls were always afraid in boats, but she had seemed to enjoy it from the first and was. never fidgety or nervous. He was a half mile up stream now, at the foot of the pasture where the black berry tangle grew. They had tied up, under the bushes on the bank one day and he had nlled her hands with the berries, big, juicy, black fellows they were, just at their full ripeness. And he dared to feed her with his fingers, and, laughing, had pretended to miss her mouth, until her cheeks .and chin had dripped with the red juice. How severe ly she had scolded him, and how sweet ly she had forgiven him and made him wash her very face with his handker chief dipped In the stream. They had been very, very good friends after that. And now! A sharp turn around a little point jut ting out into the stream brought him to the foot of the rapids, Jn the quiet, shel tered backwater they had christened "Cozy Cove." The rapids emptying into a pool out in the middle of the channel come down among rocks and stump 3 deep and strong, tempting the venture some and threatening the unwary. He had carried his canoe around one day and shot them for .her. . sitting on the bank. And then, after much coaxing, had carried again and taken her through as a passenger. He knew them well, every swirl and eddy, but it was no mat ter • for careless steering,' and he' was . more relieved than he would admit when they shot out safely Into the quiet pool at the foot. Her added weight had up set his calculations and brought the-bow down into one wash that, with a vicious slap had thrown a pailful over the gun wale and into her lap. But she had laughed and pretended not to mind the 1 wetting, and scoffed at his steering. And that was the pirl he had lost! That girl who had just measured to his ideal. No one was about, and there was no use in pretending: that he did not care. She was back at camp; maybe she had gone , by now. It was later than he had thought. He threw himself on his back, along the floor of the canoe, among the cush ions, and stared at the sky through the overhanging branches. The canoe had grounded on the bankof the cove and was Etin."* Here ,; was i where they had been the day they forgotto go back to dinner.- Yesterday. It was; the same boat, the same; cushions, the same cove, sky, trees, almost everything. Almost. And this was how, he had very care fully stretched -himself on the 'broad floor, with his head beside the cushion she was sitting on. That was a day of days. And she had ordered him to sit up and keep to his end of the boat, and, when he had refused, had said: "Better go. It's raining," dipping her hand in the stream and letting it drip on his upturned face.- And he had countered by reaching up for a twig from the bush above them, holding it between his teeth for ' a tentpole and, draping his ever-ready handkerchief over it, had boldly announced: "Let it rain. I'm a circus tent." And she had quickly check mated by dripping a whole branch in the water and playing cloudburst above him 'so successfully that his return to his seat in the stern had nearly upset them both Into the water. That »had been only yesterday. And today; today. was so different. As well stay .here as anywhere. Here was where they had spent so much time together, talking of everything He had told her all he hoped to do, all he hoped to make of himself, all his Ideals, every thing; for she was a girl one could trust. And she had softly told him of her; ideal man. and he. foolishly, had thought that it was iike the man he meant to be. He had been such a fool. He had thought she cared as he did. That, had all been long ago. What was It she had just said? That sho could not love him and did not want to marry him? That was It. He'drew his arm across his eyes^to shut out the glare. Thoughts were not pleasant, but they 1 young, weak-chinned., simpering man in sisted that every, one In. a small gather-" ing real ize that his ' grandfather fought .In the Civil« War, and the * great-grand father wlth'Pfrry. while other ancestors managed to take a few lives in the Rev- 1 I olutlon.land on back through the bloody conflicts "that mark the pages of Eng i lish. history. : Finally, one quiet 'and for cible i old '.character burst out with: "Now, >. what "have : you -done?" It Is 'hardly ]- necessary to say " that he had -• done nothing worth while.':- Hl3 time had * been devoted. to worshiping his ances-^ tors. :~ His' r ;life '.: had been 'practically ' wasted so far as doing anything -goes. | : " Foolish. isn't>it?^L»id: it. ever strike •; you "that -. ancestors 1 wqrei very : human. . wlthgoodand bad points In their cbar - acterstr-.And : do ; you know that it would : ber phenomenal h If : only,"; the - excellent moral-traits were inherited?, : :- '. I ' ad mire ia i great man in history. I re >-> joice iwhen •a ? flght , has been ; made that \u25a0has left its; mark on the progress of .the .; world. .> But 4 ! when M: see ? the. pride of V • birth flighting, the eye \ of ; a woman- or man, "Panv constrained to ask what un attractive :•' characteristics <« have been \u25a0 : handed down also. For, if you < examine : \u25a0i the lords joj of * the Middle Ages, \u25a0 there will ,be -. found!;; quite : a s supply, of crude and ; ugly lines. . Remember .that' there is t many.:a'i f amlly^tree • that ; ought ' to ; have : a J few branches s lopped \u25a0' off, if you are . bunting for the nobility. ;, Quite a' few of the * enterprising Americans have found that a family'tree Is a'ithing.too shady, to have around the house, sometimes.:' • would not down, and they were all he had. A scream, a splash close at hand, a sharp cry for. help, and an instant later his canoe swung around the point and darted into an arm of the pool on the other .side. Another canoe was rocking violently, and a fluffy head above the surface showed him where his work lay. He could remember nothing clearly aft erward, save that he found himself on the shore with the dripping, gasping form of the girl, and she was asking to be> taken home, please! please! and quickly. She was not hurt He waded out into the stream, sent each canoe ashore with a push, tied the painter of the one to his stern thwart, and finally helped her into his own. He did not lOOK at her. I\ut an hour ago she had told him that she did not want to marry him, and he would not take advantage of his posltk.n to ask her' again. It would bo cowardly, and could only be painful to her. He kept his eyes from her face and paddled for camp in si lence, but liis thoughts were busy try ing to reconcile the. irreconcilable. He had been sure yhe cared for him until that afternoon,- when she had said she did not. She had said she was going that evening, though there was but one train a day in the morning, and a long walk from camp at that. She had fallen out of a canoe in still water; she who could ride the big rapid without serious mishap. Sho hid called for help, and allowed him to rescue her from a 4 pool four feet deep, though she could swim like a wild duck. She had even'been careful not to wet her hair. And, worst of all, instead of going to attend to that hypothetical packing, she had~paddled a mile from camp, to their own Cozy Cove, to do this thing. A great light came to him. and he gazed at . : her," sternly, dripping unrepentant on the floor of the boat. The day was still warm. A sudden thrust of his paddle brought the canoe swinging around again, nnd a pull headed her up stream. The girl looked up inquiring ly, but ho made no sign. Still averting his eyes, he pulled back to their cove, unanswering the amazed question of her glance, until they were again in the shelter of the bushes fringing the quiet pool. With his baling sponge he dried the floor as well as he could, threw the painter over; the hook of a branch, and. finally, folding his arms, with the air of a Judge pronouncing sentence, he said. "Now aren't you ashamed of yourself?" The sun. had gone down, camp supper was well over, and It was a cold and shivering but aggressively happy pair that finally pulled , their canoes up on the gravel and demanded beans and coffee from a scandalized pair of cooks who. Indignantly offered crackers and •chocolate In exchange for a full and complete apology for missing the third meal in \u25a0 two days. E. CARROLL. SCHAEFFER. One j remark of a" powerful speaker comes to my mind: :.: "l .would rather," he ; said,' "be ashamed of nay ancestors than that- they: should -be ashamed' of me."' 1 ;'; -- ..^ -./\u25a0;,*,,: o '.\u25a0; \u25a0 ;, •"\u25a0;\u25a0• -There's food for thought! You: owe it to the race to go on; uplifting yourself, ': improving, bettering,; changing your en tire character. You have no . right ,to rest; calmly on- the laurels won by your great-great-grandfather. ..You are ; fail ing.: If ; you : have ; not ; done ; something a little 'better than ' the' lord ".whose crest you *are using. 7 Shame .on you, if you are "content \ to ' be the descendant : of a commanding crusader and are not fight ing in» a modern world 'for? a modern principle of. right in your Jown: way. .Ancestor- worshipers will : never be ' anything \in these days. The woman . and • man . who - have ' the > right - view of their v line of, descent will* respect the people of their, great family,- and- will* turn * their faces toward the ; present-day \u25a0\u25a0 problems. A'*' descendant ; of . the peasant '\u25a0\u25a0'. should . command just *as much of your * respect as of the feudal master, if he has proved his individual: worth. r-^v .^< Do not consign the family crest ito the ash iheap.V'But do not talk too much ; about >; it. The other ' person : without \u25a0 a coat* of- arms,; but with some goodred blood; .will seize the opportunity to do something ., while " you \ are . looking back ward.V j ,^* ; .v :>\u25a0 - \u25a0• . -\,-'. i °.:^-./ \u'-'-> "\u25a0. '\u25a0\u25a0• -;Dld you ever, think where you and the peasant might end if you; wentback far - enough? BARBARA LEE. The Human Tocsin fXI HERE Is another name for the I woman who insists upon ringing •*- the alarm and crushing any en thusiasm from a fairly large circle of fHonrt* shßisan =>"'Tiated wet blanket! You have heard )f the alarmist who i wakened her maids at the first streak of dawn by knocking at the loors and exclaim ng: "Get up right iway. Today* Monday, tomor row's Tuesday and :be next day's Wednesday ! rWere"s half the (veek gone and not i scrap of work s done yet!" That's a fine con dition to combat, isn't it? You can't deny the possibility of the aforemention ed events happening, but at the same time the excited prophecy stirs up the ordinary happy mortal to a well-found ed resentment. I know a human tocsin who always suggests a sudden drenching shower. She emerges from her home and looks up into the clear vault of heaven's blue. A frown twista her pretty face, and then she dampens the spirits of the others by sniffing the air and calling for an umbrella. "It is all right now," she will say. "but you can't tell me that there's no dampness in this atmosphere. Mark my words, it Ja going to rain." She is so self-satisfied and so emphat ic that she persuades her pretty com panions Into following her example. They would like to use their umbrellas on the prophet's hat, later on, when the sun sinks in a clear sky. Thgre is the woman who never wears a ring without working herself up into a state of nervous agitation for fear that the stone might fall out and b* lost. Another type never wears her new and expensive hat (until it ,1s out of Borrowings IS ANYTHING more, wonderful than another, if you consider it ma turely? I have seen no man rise from the dead; I have seen some thou sands rise from nothing. I have not force to fly into the sun, but I have force to lift my hand, which Is equally strange. — Carlyle. As ygu grow ready for it, some where or other you will find what Is needful for you, in a book, or a friend, or, best of all, in your own thoughts, the eternal thought speaking in your thought. —George MacDoiiald. A houso is no home unless it contain food and fire for the mind as well as for the body. —Margaret Fuller Ossoll. • Manners are the happy ways of do ing things. If they are superficial, so are the dewdrops, which give such a depth to the morning meadow. . A higher morality, like a higher in telligence, must be reached by a slow growth. y —Herbert Spencer. ; Presidential Fortunes ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S fortune was $75,000. Buchanan possessed $200,000. „ President Johnson's wealth was esti mated at $50,000. . President Polk left $150,000. President Pierce saved $50,000. I Washington married a rich widow and left $300,000. John Adams was worth about $60,000, Millard Fillmore married twice, and added to his wealth each time. Ex-President Hayes was coining money out of his chicken farm. The Garfleld family are well provided for by the pension granted by Congress and the income of a large public fund. .Van Buren was worth $300,000. Our Finger Nails PINK nails. Indolence. ' Red nails, a warlike nature. - Narrow nails incline to mischief. Filbert nails are associated with de ceit.' Small round nails. . denote obstinacy. Crooked cialls indicate a fierce nature. Nails abnormally pale or with black specks on them denote sickness. Broad nails are' considered to be in dicative of bashful and gentle nature. : Long nails appertain to those of a tem porizing disposition. These are the nails of persons who hate scenes. Courtesy THERE is no beautifler of complex ' Ion, ; or' form, or behavior, like the wish to scatter joy, and not pain, around usi ' 'Tis good to give a stranger a meal or a night's lodging. 'Tls better to Vb€ hospitable to his good meaning and thought and give courage to a com panion. -We must be as courteous to a man as we are to a picture, which we are 'willing to give the advantage of a gocdKght. \u25a0•-..-\u25a0\u25a0: ~Emerson. style) because the wear and tear ar« too hard or* it. Just why It was bought I have never been able to discover. "Think of all the times ho is going to fall!" whimpered a young mother while looking at a 6-month-old baby boy. "And the toothaches that h« must have!" Well, from there she might have departed into wide Gelds of specu lation had not her sensible husband come, to the rescue. But that woman wil! ever shut the door against happi ness. She has formed the habit and upon her head be the clouds! If you analyze the tocsin* type- you will flnd that pessimism unrestrained is the dominant factor in the general make up. A little glance at the darker sida every day has resulted in an Inability to adjust the nature to strong light. Hence the ding-dong bell. It reverber ates through the home, and the alarm ing sound travels out over the door step and assails the ears of a neighbor. People do not wish to be told of tho awful things that are waiting beyond. They resent any Intrusion upon their calm happiness, and black looks will be directed toward the purveyor of coming catastrophe— looks that will usually rival the predicted storm clouds. It is very difficult to outsmlle the toc sin. 3utkeepatltt Do not let the grumpy one spoil your day. If neces sary, suggest that she take off her hat, or the ring, br stay home if the future be so ex tremely unpropi tlous. 3m lie and b« happy, for trouble - is sure to come anyway, and it la better to enjoy yourself while you can. Let Lady Trouble ring the. alarm, but listen just enough to be polite. For Musicians BB*SURE the works of Mighty men— The good, the faithful, the sub lime- Stored in the gallery of Time, ' Repose awliile— to wake again. —Goethe. The one thing you have to do is to make a clear-voiced llttl© instrument of yourself, which other people can depend upon entirely for the note wanted. ;;/.:;' — Ruskin. Music resembles poetry: In each Are nameless graces which no methods teach. And whicU a master hand alone can reacn. —Pope. There is no feeling, perhaps, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music— that does not make a man sins: or play better. '- . —George Eliot. Wouldst thou know if a people be well governed, if its laws be good or bad. ex amine the music it practices. On Good Breeding A GREAT part of our education is sympathetic and social. Boys and girls who have been brought up with well-informed and superior people show in their manners an inestimable grace. Fuller says that "William, earl of Nassau, won a subject from the king of Spain every time he took off his hat." You cannot have one well-bred man. without a whole society of such. They keep each other up to any high point. Especially women; It requires a great many cultivated women— salons of bright, elegant, reading women, accus tomed to ease and refinement, to spec tacles, pictures, sculpture^ poetry and to elegant society— ln order that you should have one Madame de Stael. — Emerson. A Wife's Qualifications THERE are three things which a good wife should .resemble, and yet' those three things she should not resemble. She should be like a town clock— keep time and regularity. She should not. however, be like a town clock— speak so loudly that all the town may hear her. She should be like a snail —prudent and keep withdn her own house. She should not be like a snail— carry all she has upon her back. She should be like an echo— speak when spoken to. But she should not be like an echo — determined always to have th» last word. Vanity of Life HOW small'a portion of our life It Is that we really enjoy. la youth we. are looking forward to things that are to come. In old age we are looking backward to things that are gone- past; In manhood, although w« appear Indeed to be more occupied In things that aro present, even that Is too often absorbed in vague determinations to be vastly happy on some future day when w« have time.