Notes

NOTES.

The world turns aside to let any man pass who knows whither he is going. David Starr Jordan. "Failure is only endeavor temporarily off the track. How foolish it would be to abandon it in the ditch!"

784 IMPROVEMENT ERA.

The happiest life is that which constantly exercises and educates what is best in us. Hammerton.

The best way for a man to get out of a lowly position is to be con- spicuously effective in it. Dr. John Hall.

As in groans and in tears and in anguish all mortal men are brought forth into mortality, so with exceeding labor only and with slavish dili- gence withall are immortal words brought forth into immortality; likewise, also, as the mother loveth best the child that grieveth her most poignant-

ly in travail, so that which issueth with the mightiest labor from the brain is of the brain most sweetly beloved and reverenced. Eugene Field.

Some years ago I resolved to cultivate habitual cheerfulness, under all circumstances. It has not been an easy task, but I have succeeded, and now, drifting on to my eightieth birthday, burdened with heavy cares, stripped of those nearest and dearest to me by death, I am not sorrowful. am not "going down hill," as people say of the old, but I

"up hill" all the way, and am sure that life is better farther on. Mary A. Liver more.

If you have a friend worth loving, Love him. Yes, and let him know That you love him, ere life's evening Tinge his brow with sunset glow; Why should good words ne'er be said Of a friend till he is dead? Unknown.

A correspondent of the Portland Transcript writes of a pretty in- cident which was witnessed at the Paris Exposition. - It was in the Grand Palais des Beaux Arts, says the writer, that I witnessed a bit of something more beautiful than statues, as any warm, palpitating living thing is more beautiful than sculptured representations. A man and woman, plainly dressed, and evidently from a "far country," stopped be- fore a Cupid, dainty as a lily, graceful as a sea-gull, one knee bent be- neath him, his bowstrings distended, while he looked straight along the pointed arrow. "0 Sam," exclaimed the woman, "don't he look just like Jack when he is firing off arrows from that bow you made him? Al- though," reflectively, "he hain't so good-lookin' as Jack." "Might look like Jack," drawled the prosaic father, "if he had red hair 'n' freckles, 'n' a jacket buttoned up wrong, V stubbed-toed shoes. You women are great on likenesses anyway." The woman said nothing, but she lingered near the statue for a moment, and I saw her surreptitiously pat its cheek, doubtless for "Jack's" sake.