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. THINKING OF CHRIST
By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX
" ■ ■ ■- s,
„, —^
(Reprinted by permission from the December number of Good Housekeeping
Magazine.)
HINKING of Christ, and hearing what men say
Anent his second coming some near day,
Unto the me of me, I turned to ask,
What can we do for him, and by what task,
Or through what sacrifice, can we proclaim
Our mighty love, and glorify his name?
T
Whereon myself replied (thinking of Christ):
Has not God’s glory unto him sufficed?
What need has he of temples that men raise?
What need has he of any songs of praise?
Not sacrifice nor offerings, needs he.
(Thinking of Christ, so spake myself to me.)
The rivers from the mountain do not try
To feed the source from which they gain supply;
They pay their debt by flowing on and down,
And carrying comfort to the field and town.
They scatter Joy and beauty on their course,
In gratitude to the Eternal Source.
And thus should we (thinking of Christ) bestow
The full sw’eet tides of love that through us flow
Upon earth’s weaker creatures. To the less
Must flow the greater, would we lift and bless.
Christ is the mountain source; each heart a river;
The thirsting meadows need us, not the Giver.
Thinking of Christ, let us proclaim His worth
By gracious deeds to mortals on this earth,
And while we wait His coming, let us bring
Sweet love and pity to the humblest thing.
And show our voiceless kin of air and sod
The mercy of the Universal God.
Not by long prayers, though prayers renew our graee'-
Not by tall spires, though steeples have their place-
Not by our faith, though faith is glorious—
Can we prove Christ, hut oy the love in us.
Mercy and love and k ndness—seek these three.
Thus (thinking of Christ) myself said unto me.
ARE YOU STARVING FOR AIR?
By EDWIN MARKHAM-
S AMUEL HOPKINS ADAMS,
of the American Medical As
sociation, in “The Health
Master,” just from the press of
Houghton Mifflin Company, offers
a book of importance. It is the
account of a family who adopted
the old Chinese plan of retaining
a doctor to keep them well, in
stead of taking chances on being
ill and then calling in the doctor.
Lessons on pure milk, infec
tions, care of eyes, etc., are given
under the guise of lively fiction,
and I commend the book to my
fellow-citizens. Here is an ex
cerpt showing the tenor of the
pages:
“ ‘You can pick your air to
some extent, so it’s worth while
to know r where it’s good and
where it’s bad.
“'Don’t tell me that New York
is unfit to breathe in!’ said Mrs.
Clyde, with a woman’s love for
the metropolis.
" “Thus far it’s pretty clean.
The worst thing about New York
is that they dry-sweep their
streets and throw all the dust
there is right in your face. The
next worst is the subway. When
analysis was made of the tube’s
air, the experimenters were sur
prised to find very few’ germs.
But they were shocked to find the
atmosphere full of tiny splinters
of steel. It’s even worse to
breathe steel than to breathe
coal.
“ ’Look at the modern sleeping
car—heavy plush seats, soft
hangings, thick carpets, fripper
ies all as gorgeous, vulgar, ex
pensive, tawdry and filthy as the
mind of man can devise. Add to
that windows hermetically seal
ed in the winter months, and
you’ve got an ideal contrivance
for the encouragement of mor
tality. Never do I board a sleeper
without a stout hickory stick in
my suit case. No matter how
low the temperature is, I pry the
w indow of my lower berth open
and push the stick under.
“ ‘I remember in my college
days that the winter term was
considered to be the most diffi
cult in every year. The curricu
lum didn’t seem to show it, but
every professor and every un
dergraduate knew’ it. Bad air,
that’s all. The recitation rooms
were kept tightly closed. The hu
man brain can’t burn carbon and
get a bright flame of intelligence
without a good draft, and the
breathing is the draft. Now, on
the evidence of Charley’s teach
er, when winter comes percent
ages go down, although the les
sons are the same. So I asked
her about the ventilation, and
found that she had a supersti
tious dread of cold.’ ”
“ ‘I remember Miss Benn’s
room,’ said Julia, thoughtfully. ‘It
used to get aw’ful hot there. I
never liked that grade anyway.
and Bobs got such bad deport
ment marks.’
“ ‘Both of the twins had colds
all the winter they were in that
room,’ contributed Grandma
Sharpless.
“ ‘When W’ill the substitute
mothers and fathers who run our
schools learn about air?’ he cried.
‘Air! It’s the first cry of the
newly born baby. Air! It’s the
last plea of the man with the
death rattle in his throat. It’s
the one free boon, and we shut
it out.’
“ ‘But you wouldn’t have them
study with all the windows open
on a zero day?’ protested Mrs.
Clyde.
“‘Wouldn’t I? Far rather than
choke them in a close room!
Why, in some schools the sickly
children have special classes on
the roof, or in the yards, all
through the cold w’eather. They
study in overcoats and mittens.
And they learn. Not only that,
but they thrive on. iL’ ”