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page 6 THE FUTURE CITIZEN “FLY-DROPHOBI A" “Swat Early and Avoid tlie Rush.” The early fly’s the one to swat. It comes before the weather’s hot, and sits around and files its legs, and lays at least ten million eggs, and every egg will bring a fly to drive us crazy by and by. Oh every fly that skips our swatters will have a million sons and daughters, and countless first and second cousins, and aunts and uncle, scores of doz ens, and fifty-seven billion nieces; so knock the blamed thing all to pieces. And every niece and every aunt—unless we swat them so they can’t— will lay enough dodgasted eggs to fill up ten five-gallon kegs and all these eggs ere summer hies, will bringforth twenty trillion flies. • And thus it goes, an endless chain, so all our swatting is in vain, unless we do that swatting soon, in Maytime ar.d in early June. So men and brothers, let us rise, gird up our loins and swat the flies! And sisters, leave your cozy bowers where you have wasted golden hours; with ardor in your souls and eyes, roll up your sleeves and swat the flies!—Southern Farming. COINING A NEW WORD We hav» taken the liberty tocoin a new word “Fly-drophobia” as a head for the poem on flies by our j patron saint and staff poet, Walt. Mason. We don’t know just exact- what the word means, but feel sure it don’t mean any harm. If fear of water is denominated hydrophobia and a boy who is afraid j of books is said to have liber-pho-1 bia, then we don’t see why Uncle Walt’s ailment may not be diagnos ed as “fly-drophobia, , although there is an extra euphoneous sylla ble thrown in for good measure. 1*. S. You may spell it “Phly-dro- phobia” if you prefer; it is hard enough for us like it is. At a recent conference it was dis covered that all but two of the one- ' hundred ministers present were born and raised in the country. What’s the matter with the towns. It’s easy enough to be pleasant When your automobile’s in trim, But the man worth while Is the man who can smile, When he has to go home on the rim. FOOL KILLER LOAFING ON THE JOB By One Overlooked This is the dull season when the space writer and the paragraph man with the protruding funny bone proceed to sharpen their pencils and dash off a half column fillupper under the above caption. We are regaled at painfully regular enter- vaL by the story of the genius who climbed a tree to prune it and sat on a limb while he sawed it off be tween himself and the tree; but we find no mention of the further fact —equally true—that the youth pick ed himself up, rubbed his bruises and made such minute investiga tion of the cause of his mishap that he developed into an expert in both forestry and philosophy. We are told about the boy with the sorrel mane and the freckled countenance who was strewing guano through a tin horn in an old orchard cotton patch aifd spied a' nest of caterpill ars amoung the branches over his head, when he very promptly turn ed his horn up and undertook to eradicate them by pouring a hand ful of strong guano through the horn literally “up-on” them ; but we are left in darkness about how the experiment developed him into an orchardist, a chemist and an occuHst, or at least a tinsmith. It was no less a personage than Sir Isaac Newton, of whom the story was first told that he sawed out a block in his room door to make a cat-hole for the free egress and in gress of his pet tabby, then took the door off its hinges and sawed a smaller block on the other corner to make a small hole for her kitten to pass through. But the perennial phun-makers forget who it was, and see only the ridiculous side. We are amused by the story of the mythical landlubber who took a boat ride and finding the water accumulated a few inches deep in the boat proceeded to bore a hole in the bottom to let it run out: but we are not advised whether he after wards became a great mariner, or invented the hydraulic ram. Every great achievement and every worth while performance is the result of many failures and one success, and in most cases, the ex periments were paved witlr egreg ious blunders, the result- not of ab sent-mindedness, but of mental con centration. If we compiled a list of “Mod ern American Blunderers,” Thos. A. Edison and Luther Burbank and Dr. Wiley would probably head the list; but out of the ashes of miny miscarried plans they have each erected a structure that will endure through the ages. And so through the whole catagory of bu rn,.n achievements. Every honest efiort is worth while; even if we never succeed, the lesson of our trial will add something to the sum of human experience, if not human happiness. The wcrld has more respect for the fellow who tries to do some thing and fails, than for the one who tries to do nothing and suc ceeds. VACATION TIME All the world is set to rhyme Now it is vacation-time, And a swelling flood of joy Brims the heart of every boy, No more rote and no more rule, No more staying after school When the dreamy brain forgets Tiresome tasks the master sets; Nothing but to play and play Through an endless holiday. Morn or afternoon, may all Swing the bat and catch the ball; Nimble-footed, race and run Through the meadows in the sun, Chasing winged scraps of light, Butterflies in darting flight; Or where willows lean and look Down at others in the brook, Frolic loud the stream within, Every arm a splashing fin. Where the thorny thickets bar, There the sweetest berries are; Where the shady banks make dim Pebbly pools, shy trout swim; Where the boughs are mossiest, Builds the humming-bird a nest;— There are haunts the rover seeks, Touch of tan upon his cheeks, And within his heart the joy Known to no one but a boy. Vacation time is full of joys And should make us happy boys— Let’s remember while we roam Not to get too far from home; Not to let our joy bring tears And keen regrets in after years. Remember well “an idle brain” And never go astray again All the world is set to rhyme Now it is vacation time. —The Progressive Teacher.