T H E CHEM AWA AMERICA?«
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BIG H T
The triumph of right over wrong has been a favor
ite topic of speakers and writers from the dawning of
language and letters. It was a topic which was worthy
the greatest consideration of the master minds of the
centuries which gave heed to it. There is a power of
right, a wonderful power, too—don’t forget that.
Furtherm ore, it trium phs over wrong. The trium phs
may at times and under certain circumstances seem
long in materializing, but in the end the power of right
manifests itself and we all recognize it. Evil and wrong
cannot face that which represents right.
Something is certain to bring the author of evil, the
wrong-doer, to account in the end. The history of the
world points to this as true, and nearly all of us can re
call experiences within our knowledge which prove
it beyond a doubt. The first instance of this fact on
record is given in the account’ of the Devil being
kicked out of Heaven. The Devil was making too much
trouble, doing too much dirty work. This was wrong
and the Lord and archangels proved the power of
right and sent him foith.
Men of great achievement have often turned their
minds into evil channels and became wrong-doers—
to suffer the most bitter remorse until the day of their
death. Aaron Burr was an example of this class of
men. Benedict Arnold was another. Both of these
men did much for the good of the nation, but final
ly yielded to the blandishments of evil and fell—
never again to rise. History records many such in
stances.
The present war is and has been for more than
four years a daily lesson on the subject of right and
wrong on a mammoth scale, with the central powers
representing all that was evil and wrong. We are
just beginning to see the great power of right in full
tilt against the massing of so much wrong as was rep
resented by Germany and her allies in crime. We
are permitted to see these erstwhile great governments
crumbling to earth before the great power of right.
In this great league for evil the German Kaiser played
the part of the Devil when he was of the Heavenly
Host and it is our fervent prayer that it will be seen
right and proper to kick him hence as was the Devil.
In fact, we hope that right will do a trifle more for
the Kaiser than happened to the Devil. In time we
shall see the triumph of right in the present struggle
against wrong. It is alwavs so.
CAN A N D W ILL
There is avast difference between “ I can” and “ I
w ill.” If you are a real live wire in anything there
must be a something wherein you can say both “ I can”
and “ I w ill.” Of what avail is it to be able to do
something if you have not the will to do it? Be capa
ble to do something then make your capacity of value
by having the energy to execute with vim and vigor.
In all things it is accomplishment that counts.
The world wants accomplishment—it must have it.
You can’t wish forever for a thing and have it come
to you. That would be a miracle and we have little
faith in miracles. We feel more assurance in the
spirit which says “ I can” and “ I w ill.” Who will
pay money for a fellow who simply wishes his work
done? The fellow who does his work and does it
promptly and well is the one who will get the pay.
T hat is as it should be, too.
Now, let our young readers give heed to what “ I
can” and “ I will” stand for in this busy and practical
world of ours. F it yourself for some one thing, at
least, wherein you can say both ‘ ‘ I can ’ ’ and ‘ ‘ I will. ’ ’
Hold up your hand if you mean business.
A FA BLE FOB TH E TIM ES
Every day sees something new and in accordance
with the times. From an exchange we glean the
following, which has a bearing on one’s attitude to
ward the Spanish Influenza:
A peasant driving to the village was accosted by a
tattered hag who asked him for a ride. Regardless of
her repulsive appearance he took her into his vehicle.
As they entered the village she alighted and in pay
ment for the ride offered to grant him a favor.
“ Who are you?” asked the peasant.
“ I am the P lague,” replied the hag.
“ T h e n ,” said the peasant, “ grant me this: T hat
in this village of my friends you take but a single
life.”
“ G ranted,” said the Plague and disappeared.
It became known that the Plague was in the village.
Scores died; the peasant was sorely troubled. On an
other day as he traveled the roads, again he met the
hag and reproached her for breaking her word.
“ I have kept my w ord,” said the crone. “ But one
life have I taken.”
“ But the dead are m any,” protested the peasant.
“ Y es,” said the Plague, “ but the others have died
of fear.”
Be clean, be careful, be courageous; this outbreak
of Spanish influenza is nothing worse than half a
dozen other maladies that have their seasons of epi
demic. It is not so insidious or deadly as tuberculosis
and yet there is no furore over the white plague be
cause it is not a novelty. Science is already on the
trail of the influenza bug that masks a German behind
a Spanish calling-card, but science can’t do it all—
the individual must do his part.