r ,TTPSnAY. NOVEMBER 14, T 929
lft - a a. a a. a
r
|i "on and Me I'!
‘. | M
*1 . Common sense is the most | ,
uncommon kind of sense.’* ?
{ . 1— 1' i
|p v HAROLD BELL WRIGHT | ’
i w pi■ 'SP J •
Back Stairs
• s many a man done got him- j
,V v tiyin’ * to find a short cut to i
ft ; : : , re * a feller has sure got to
l-burned certain of the neigh
l'e when he tries to git in the
‘ • v ,-ay.”—Preachin’ Bill.
p E XV the truth of that old thread*
[ bare maxim, “Where there’s a will
tliero's a way.” I refuse to accept the
Insertion of those knowing ones who
!. ir e ‘ There is no such word as
can’t.
)Vl)v, most of us spend half our
lives willing to attain ends that are
forever beyond our reach. The rest
J time we are finding out the
tLi a- s which we cannot do.
sJme of us never do find out that
f r us there is no way to certain
thirds though our wills were strong
•, c-rh to burn us in a slow fire. And
between you and me, that is one rea
-1 sen why po many of us fail to arrive
” anywhere in particular.
Tor instance, I know a fine man who
stands only about four feet, ten. If
will-power could do it that lad would
stretch to six feet, at least—he might
not be satisfied under seven. But my
friend knows there Is no way, so he
very wisely wastes no strength on the
preposition but gives all hig attention
to r aking the most of his four feet,
ten.
All the will-power in the universe
would never have enabled me to sing
like Caruso. I was not born with
Cara.' s singing machinery. Because
I discovered this in time, I have
wasted no ammunition shooting at
that target The world has not lost
a sir..’.*" because there was no singer
there to lose; but I have gained a
considerable peace of mind. Do you j
’* "
New, the chief thing which one can
not do is to accomplish anything like
satisfying and enduring success by
short-cut, underhand, back-stairs
methods.
You remember about the fellow who.
“Climbeth up some other way.” “The
same is a thief and a robber.”
Yes, I suppose a thief might be a
successful thief. One might success
| I deny the truth of that old I
| thread-bare maxim, “Where !
j there’s a will there’s away.” I
| I refuse to accept the assertion j
| of those knowing ones who de- j
I dare, “There is no such word 1
j a6 can’t” I
•* • |
[ All the will-power Id the uni- J
| verse would never have enabled 4
j me to sing like Caruso. J
• • •
| Now, the chief thing which j
\ one cannot do is to accomplish I
| anything like satisfying and en- !
during success by short-cut un- I
derhand, back-stairs methods. J
,•* * •
j To have financial success that j
? Is real, one must actually own j
| that which one possesses. 4
** * 4
| It is the person who holds no I
! shares in Life who complains f
'* most about scanty dividends. 4
• * * * •
• •
i Make no mistake, you can’t |
| bunco Life indefinitely. |
bully commit a murder. But you know
t e kind of success I am discussing.
Please don’t quibble.
I say, one either walks right up to
the front door of the House of Suc
cess, rings the bell, and climbs the
main stairway to the inner room or,
sooner or later, is thrown out for an
intruder, a sneak, or a bum.
For instance, no person ever yet
climbed to real financial success by the j
back stairs.
Now. wait a minute!
I do not say that no one ever
climbed to large sums of money by
the get-rich-quick stairway. But
I do say that a fortune so accumu
lated never in reality belongs to
the one who gains it —it still re
mains the property of those from
whom it was taken.
do have financial success that is j
real, one must actually own that which '
ODe possesses. A dollar in your pocket j
w ouU] not necessarily be j*our dollar; j
it might be mine. If it were mine the j
fact that you carried it In your pocket
'ODI J not make it yours. You might
en i°y a certain cheap, uneasy, and
momentary thrill by flashing the coin
and pretending it was yours. But that
Woa -d fall far short of what I under
stand by financial success. And you
wou *d soon weary of the attentions
you received by such pretense.
Mhen Fear is a guest at the ban-
Ouet the host does not eat with a
bearty appetite. When Dread walks j
firm in arm with one, Happiness and
Contentment are always on the other j
mde of the street. It is a mighty truth j
Cat to hold riches which belong to
another is not to possess the treasure,
but is to be possessed by it.
des, “pull” is another back stair
way which seems to promise away j
5 a to the House of Success. In fact, j
tae almost universal belief that one
W ay sickly and safely sneak up to
:.‘ ,e Ciner room by the back stairs of
*ml and Influence, Is the principal
r * ason why the steps to the front door
are never crowded. i
‘be man who, on his way to the
rna ‘ n entrance, slips his arm through
Mrors with a cheery, “Going up, broth-
er? Fine! So am I—come along
and we will go in together”—well,
j that is different.
True—One may sometimes gain the
j second story by the back stairs of
| I ull. Professional porch climbers ac
i complish the same end. But no one
! eould, with reason, contend that be
cause the porch climber was in the
i house he was at home. ,
One who gains a position by Pull,
j nuist of necessity live in uncertainty
j and be ill at ease—never knowing
i w . hen tlle Coer may be opened to show
i ln m eut* Such an intruder may
snatch a few pieces of silver, or bag a
handful of jewels before being forced
to vacate, but that is all. To feel
comfortably and happily at home in
the House of Success, one must be a
welcome and an honored guest. j
Another thing which cannot be done
ls to gain a welcome in the House of
Success by climbing up the back stairs i
of Credit
No, I am not referring to the varl- !
ous methods of paying one’s bills from
another’s bank account. Many people
have been fairly successful in having
things charged to some one else. But,
after all, when you think about it pay- ,
ing a bill is only an incident in life, j
1 am speaking of life as a whole. I
am saying that one cannot accept all j
the good things which Life offers and !
have them charged as one would buy j
a pound of sugar or a new hat, and
then dodge the bill forever.
You see, I rather suspect that there
Is too much watered stock in the aver- |
age citizen’s respectability. I think !
that is why some of us do not invest !
more heavily in humanity. When we j
learn to make common, every-day liv- !
ing worth one hundred cents on the 1
dollar, more of us will believe that j
there is something in the business.
One who is credited with honesty !
may sell a phony jewel now and then, !
but one cannot continue selling glass I
diamonds and maintain a rating of j
A-l. However willing we may be to !
hand out fake living to our fellow- I
countrymen, there is no way to keep it i
up indefinitely.
Some even reach the point where ;
they spend the greater part of their
! religious strength asking for blessings j
on credit. They beseech the Almighty j
for things which they know they do ;
not deserve, have no right to expect,
and would not rightly use if they got.
The rest of the chureh hour is spent
by the preacher giving them advice
which he knows they will not follow,
and asking them for money he knows
they will not give.
Think it over.
The person who has nothing in- j
vested in Life gets all the returns due j
him—which are not much. And, as ;
yon no doubt have noticed, it is the <
person who holds no shares In Life
who complains most about scanty
dividends.
There are some things, you know,
which grown-up men do not try to do.
Os course, though, some men and a
few women never grow up.
A long time ago when we were boys
we crawled under the canvas and en
joyed the circus quite as much as if
we had paid the half-dollar. But we
cannot see Sells Brothers that way j
now—not if we have grown up. The
man who expects to enjoy the realities
of life by crawling under the canvas
is, to put it mildly, large for his age.
Most of us judge the world by our
selves. The trouble is, we'guess wrong
as to our own value. We mistake
Credit for Capital.
There are too many of these five
dollar millionaires —people whose idea !
of living is to put up a twenty-thou- ■
sand dollar appearance on an eight- j
dollar salary. They want Credit, you ;
see, for something which does not I
exist.
When a man acquires the habit of j
thinking that the whole scheme of
things would go bankrupt if it were i
not for the nickel’s worth which he J
contributes once in a while, he is try- :
ing to live on credit to which he is ;
i not entitled. Sooner or later he is
sure to overdraw his account.
And have you never heard people
pretending to give God the glory when
they were in reality only making a
1 loud noise on their own horns? Have j
you never met the fellow who claims j
credit for large charities when he is j
in reality only getting rid of a smooth j
nickel which be failed to pass on the j
street car conductor? Well, these are
some more of the people who are try
ing to sneak into the House of Suc
cess byway of the back stairs of
Credit.
j Another of the back stairs kind are !
; the folk who demand fifty dollars’ j
1 worth of attention for every fifty j
| cents’ worth of courtesy. Such short
i change artists are bound to hold hazy
1 ideas as to credit.
The one who offers something
for nothing is usually a liar. The
one who seeks to take advantage
of such an offer is at heart either
a sharper or a fool —or both.
A person whose living costs noth
ing, lives just that way. Generally
speaking, things cost all they are
worth —sometimes more. Free shows
are usually worth the price of admis
sion.
! Some of us seem always to acknowl
edge our indebtedness to our fellow*
j humans with mental reservations. Pay
i day comes around and when our reser
vations are subtracted there is noth- ;
Ing left for those we owe but a cur- !
rent expense deficit.
Make no mistake, you can’t bunco
I Life indefinitely.
And never mind If the world some
times forgets to give the credit which
is your due. Be thankful that you are
not charged with all that you owe.
No one ever yet gained the inner
room In the House of Success byway
; of the back stairs. The front door is
never barred. Better go in that way,
or stay out
(© 1928 by the Bell Syndicate. Inc.)
THE CHATHAM RECORD, PITTSBORO, N. C.
|f _
uJfiattkHgttittLs
t^======J
For the bounteous harvests thanfcs may bo
given.
For the purpose of our day thanks may bo
given.
j Our abundance is amazing. Our grain and
oil and gold run into bd.:ons. The physical
impossibilities of yesterday are the accepted
facts of today. We sail under the water and
into the air in ships.
In a material sense we have wrought pro
digiously. A Li’llon-dollar trust is an ephe
meral thing compared with the creed of de
mocracy. Like a wizard’s flux, that creed
has resolved unnumbered men of scores of con
flicting races into the type of manhood hall
marked American.
j
Idea of Thanksgiving
Inherent in All Ages
j This week brings the day we dedi
cate to turkey, cranberry sauce, foot
ball, and the giving of thanks. Per
haps the matter of giving thanks has
been permitted to slip a little into the
background. It may be what histo
i rians would call a trend of the times.
Well, there is sound precedent for
this mingling of football and prayer.
I The humanities, if you can call them
| that, have always intruded upon days
: of devotion.
When Pope Gregory I, a sensible
man, sent Augustine to convert the
Anglo-Saxons, he directed that some
I Christian festival be substituted for
; each heathen feast. But, he instructed
j his missionaries, much in the pagan
; manner of celebration must be allowed
j to remain, “to the end that, whilst
i some gratifications are outwardly per-
I mitted them, they may the more eas*
! ily consent to the inward consolations
| of the Grace of God.”
By such tolerances we have the
! Yule log, various diverting Easter cus-
I toms, and other pleasant practices
I that in the beginning were not Chris
| tian at all.
I Thanksgiving, too, has a mixed
! background. There is nothing dis
-1 tinctlvely American in its origin. Man
I has always had the thanksgiving
i habit.
HARD TO UNDERSTAND
“You say Jack couldn’t play the Thanksgiv
; tog game because he was back in his studies?’*
“Yes! He flunked in economics.”
“Huh! .Well, he took me out one night wad
I thought he was the most economical man in
the world.”
November Fields
November fields lie brown and sere
Beneath a bleak, gray sky.
But time records another year
In centuries gone by
When p lgrims knelt in silent prayer
Os thanks for harvest’s yield,
I Ar.d blessed the soil that was so bare
In a November fisld.
November fields were red with blood
Beneath dark clouds of war;
Then came a calm o’er Flanders mud—
Stilled was the cannon’s roar.
Grim men bowed heads in silent prayer
And so es of hate were healed,
| When hope was bom from out despair
I On a November field.
Service to Humanity
| It is much to he desired that in re:i
dering homage for the blessings which
j have come to us. we should earnestly
i testify cur continued and increasing
j aim to make our own great fortune s
’ means of helping and serving, as best
! we can, the cause of all humanity.—
| Warren G. Harding.
for u# tnciW, j
sor 71# dad, 4
ads and lunctrsd
jl have Had.
tarn# lessons 9
school caelt daj,p
•oul more thankful,
Unnumbered Blessing*
j Once in a while, it may do us good
to be thankful, not so much for the
particular fortune that has come to
us as individuals, as for the general
blessings that are showered down im
partially on all of us. Sunshine, moon
rise, the feel of rain on one’s face;
the sight and the scent of earth, green
in the spring, dun-coated in the fall;
the sound of birds in the morning, the
sight of young stock gamboling in pos
ture —these come even to the poorest.
Let us be thankful.—Wallace's Farmer
HUNGRY?
ffcii j£' iSfe.-v p
r;J*i§ ; ptp
’ .*:• .• -V-
In the days of yore the Puritan maiden
served the Thanksgiving turkey just as mil
lions of mosdro maidens will do it this year.
Figuring the Nation’s
Leading Cereal Crop 3
Let us set out to visualize the gi
gantic proportions of our crops, that
we may the better appreciate the rea
son for thankful hearts. Start with
corn, wheat, and oats, the three lead
ing cereal crops, providing foods for
man and beast, prosperity for country
and city alike. Manhattan island, on
which New York city stands, contains
27 square miles of land surface.
Should we empty these three largest
grain crops over these 14,038 acres the
gathered grain would cover the island
to a depth of 120 feet —everything
under ten stories would be buried be
neath the avalanche of breadstuff’s!
Or, let us suppose we lumped It to
gether. Make a bin, if you please,
and our three great cereal crops
would fill a titantic measure one-half
a cubic mile in dimensions. If it were
set up on Broadway, this half cubic
mile would tower seven times as high
as the Woolworth building, and the
bin would be twenty city blocks long
by ten blocks wide. To grow the
wheat alone required a field as large
as all of New York state, and the
billions of bushels of corn were grown
on a field as large as New York, with
New England, Scotland, Ireland and
Wales.
And so on right down the column,
nature has been most kind to Amer
ican country folks. Surely, a far dif
ferent situation confronts us than that
which faced the fathers of Thanksgiv
ing. Contrast this against that first
harvest, and we should the better ap
preciate the reason for our thankful
ness. —Eari W. Gage, in the Michigan
Farmer.
CHAMPIONS BOTH
Expressing Our Gratitude
Gratitude must have an object, li
must recognize the source of the debt.
It must express a feeling toward some
thing exterior to itself. If our favored
position and condition are due to our
own efforts then we owe nothing, have
no reason for gratitude, and there is
no object to which thankfulness can
be directed. Or if this is a material
world and nothing else, if life is mere
ly a mechanical process, there is noth
ing outside of ourselves to which we
should be grateful. And if we are ma
chines, automatons moving about in
rigid obedience to physical stimuli, any
sense of gratitude to anything, or for
anything, is only a mechanical reac
tion that has neither meaning nor
value. —Exchange.
Cause for Thanks
Lord, thou hast given me a cell
Wherein to dwell;
A little house, whose humble roof
Is waterproof.
Lord, 1 confess, too, when I dine,
The pulse is Thine,
And all those other bits that be
There placed by Thee.
All these, and better, thou dost send
Me, to this end—
That I should render, for my part
A thankful heart.
—Robert Herrick.
t
4
HOTEL’S MISTAKE
The departing guest had been given
his bill, and shortly afterwards the
manager said to the head waiter:
“You gave the man in room 29 his
bill, didn't you?”
“Yes, sir,” was the reply.
“I didn’t forget to charge for any
thing, did I?” inquired the manager.
“Not that I know of,” answered the
waiter.
“Strange, very strange,” muttered
the other; “I can still hear him
whistling.”—Stray Stories.
Poor Papa
Little Girl —My mamma is awful
strict. Is yours?
Little Boy—Orful!
Little Girl —But she lets you go any
where you want to, and —
Little Boy—O, she ain’t strict with
me!
Little Girl —Then who is she strict
with?
Little Boy—Pa.
REMOVED THE SPOTS
I TTTTI
3-J^
“Does your wife remove spots from
your trousers?”
“Yes —five and ten spots as a rule.”
The Wiseacre
Head bowed, with not a glance aside,
He passes by—stern-faced, unwink
ing.
I What keeps him so preoccupied?
He thinks he makes you think he’s
thinking.
They Bite
Bobo —That guy is living on the fat
of the land.
Linko—What’s he done —robbed a
bank?
Bobo —Nothing so crude. He’s the 1
manufacturer of a get-thin-quick
chewing gum.—Pathfinder.
Just the Word
“I declare,” exclaimed Mrs. Taw
kins, “that radio is making my hus
band so indolent! All he does is lie
back in his easy chair and listen in
from supper to bedtime. He’s beeom
infi absolutely—”
“Radiotiose,” put In her caller. ,
Below Zero
“I got cold feet dancing with Ma
bel last night.”
“How?”
“Whenever she stepped on my foot
my toes were 5 below.” —Washington
Star.
SQUEALED, Or COURSE
Captain—Well, what did that road
hog do when you pinched him?
Cop—Squealed, of course.
Trouble
You’re gettin’ into trouble.
It leaves you feelin’ sore.
And even when you’re gettin’ out,
You're gettin’ into more.
Just a Shell
Weste —I hear you’ve built a new
home.
Easte —Yes, but I don’t know
whether it’s going to be a manor,
villa, hacienda or igloo—my wife
hasn’t bought the furniture yet.
Glad Surprise
“You were going 00 miles an hour,”
said the traffic cop. I
“Lead me to the fine,” said Mr.'
Chuggins, proudly. “I didn’t think the
old fliv could do it!”
Taking Her Pick
Mr.—Will you be long?
Mrs.—No, dear. I’ll be ready in >i
minute.
Mr. —Well, please pick a minute j
that’s not more than 30 minutes away j
The Voice With the Smile
First Telephone Operator—What is
your favorite poem?
Second Ditto—Well, I like. “Tell
Me Not in Mournful Numbers!”
No Mistaken Identity
“Your wife wants you on the phone.” j
“How do you know it’s my wife?”
“She started off, ‘ls that you, bum’—
j and I knew.”
4 . I
| All Cleaned Up for f
A . v
£ an Interview X
X 4*
Y •
v Y
♦> By RING LARDNER f
**• V
To the Editor:
The other wk. I was setting around
the home wishing callers would come
or something so I would have a excuse
to mix up a cocktail when all of a
sudden what should ring but the tele
phone bell so of course I thought at
first it must be the wrong No. like
usual, but I answered it and the girlie
says Bridgeport wants you. So I said
yes I suppose they do but I can’t live
everywheres at once and then another
female voice spoke up and she said
she was a reporter on the Bridgeport
Herald and when could she get a in
terview.
So I thought for the second time
that they must be calling the wrong
No. but soon I remembered who I am
so I kind of snarled back at her like
all the big birds do when you ask
them for a interview but I didn’t snarl
so as she could hear me for the fear
she would think it was a sincere
snarl and would hang up and end it
all, and little by little we got more
friendly and she said she would be
over the foiling Tuesday. So then the
both of us hung up on each other and
I come back into the parlor with a
kind of pale look and the Mrs. said
who was that woman and I said she is
a reporter on the Bridgeport Herald.
What does she want?
She wants to interview me because
I am notorious.
Yes but you been notorious ever
since you were kiddisb and nobody
wanted to interview you till now.
Well I said the N. Y. City papers
has started the fashion by interview
ing George Maeterlink that can’t even
parle anglais and this lady is going to
show them up by talking to a poet
witch can say something back besides
oolala and anyway she is coming over
here next Tuesday to see me so thats
that.
Yes replied the Mrs. but when you
used to interview notorietys like Ty
Cobb and Jessie Willard for instants,
why you done it without going to no
bother like seeing them.
So I said shut up and between that
day which was a Thursday and the
foiling Tuesday I took light exercise
and read and eat a good deal and
things went along about as usual with
out no marked change till the Monday
night when I begin to feel a little
dizzy right after the supper and I
thought at first it must be something
I had eat or something till 1 of the
kids happened to make the remark
that tomorrow was Tuesday and then
it flashed on me that all that stood
between the Bridgeport lady and I
was a ordinary Monday night in the
summer time. ..
Bfil was IT a ordinary Monday night
god forbid. I retired early and lay
there and tossed and read the story of
Joseph Hergesheimer and tossed some
more until it must of been fully 9
o’clock when I droped into a light doze
witch came to a sudden terminus at
7:30 Tuesday A. M. and it was broad
day and I got up and shaved myself
and dressed the latter and came down
to breakfast. Already the women folks
was cleaning up the parlor in honor
of the occasion eniptying the as£
trays, chairs and etcl ■ -* s
They was a sensation when I en-'
tered the dining room where the 3
elderest children was working on their
prunes.
How do you happen to be up said
one.
What have you got a collar on for?
Wear is your whiskers?
So 1 gave them each a nasty look
and they shut up and I set down and
eat a hearty breakfast of serial, toast
and coffee. ‘
Promptly at a M of 12 what should
ring the door bell and who was there
but the lady from Bridgeport? No
body. We shook hands and exchanged
a few confidents and I led her in the
parlor and was just going to call her
tension to it being all cleaned up for
the occasion when my eye happened to
stray under the radiator and there
was the mouse trap. Well you could
of knock me over with a big rock
when I seen it but lucky its latest
quarry had been removed but they was
no telling when the next little rascal
would scamper in and get himself in
trouble and probably raise enough
he —11 about it to spoil the party. The
lady may of wondered why it was I
kept stomping my ft. and coughing,
and etc. Well It was to warn all ver
min that the room was occupe to use
a frog expression and don’t trespass
only at your own risque.
The details of the interview can be
read in the Bridgeport Herald but any
way before it was over they was sus
picious noises towards the dining room
door and a wif of beans and pancakes
smote the nostrils and the lady got up
and pulled a camera and asked if she
could take a picture of whatever kids
they were left in the house so I went
for one and he was broughten down
and didn’t know me on acct of being
shaved at that hr. of the day and
busted out crying so 1 kind of ch'oked
him a little and he quit and we was
all photographed and the Mrs. ast the
j lady from Bridgeport would she stay
at lunch and she said no and walked
out on us to some place where the
washer woman don’t come Tuesday
i and have to be surfeited with bake
beans and pancakes.
So when the lady had left I took the
Mrs. in the parlor and showed her a
certain article of furniture that laid
there under the radiator in plain site
and then 1 went in the dining room
and eat a hearty lunch of pancakes and
bake beans by myself.
(© by the Bell Syndicate. Inc.)
PAGE SEVEN