The Inspiration of Cheer: A Poem

706 IMPROVEMENT ERA one-fourth as large as the church attendance. There were not enough teachers. The singing was poor; not all of them opened their hymn books, and some classes did not sing at all. There were few adults, and twice us many girls as boys. The poorest feature was the responsive reading. On the first verse only one class responded. Many late comers broke into the opening service. There were whispering and laughing during the opening service, and even during the prayer. This is not an overdrawn picture; I can reproduce it in many a city in this country today. "Facts are stubborn things, and yet there is nothing so eloquent as facts. The non-'Mormon' churches will have better Sunday Schools when they get their eyes open to the great work done by the 'Mormon' schools. If the 'Mormons' believe so thoroughly in Sunday School work and early religious instruction that they readily give money, time and ability to it, they deserve to come to the front; and if the dormant constituency in the average non-'Mormon' church does not consider the Sunday school worth while, their churches or schools deserve to go to the wall. Let us hope that during the next decade the non-'Mormon' churches put at least 50 per cent as much thought, time and money into their Sunday schools as the 'Mormons' do." No comment is needed. It should be encouraging to our Sunday School teachers to know that their labor of love is appreciated even by visitors who know something about such work. It should encourage them to still further continue their efforts. Some Utah preachers go abroad and represent the people here as heathens who know nothing of God, or the moral code. Our Sunday School work is a grand refutation of such slanders, and that is but one branch of the untiring, magnificent work by the Church for the uplifting of mankind. The Inspiration of Cheer There's a new thought in my mind today. It bids me climb the mountainous way With a cheerful heart, never minding the smart Of my thorn-pierced feet; But plod steadily on up to the snow-capped peak, Singing my song, that others who seek The summit to gain, Hearing the notes, may forget their pain. Ruth May Fox