T

rather would make things harder, both for me and for those of my family who have so faithfully cared for me. By maintaining my interest in my profession and in world events my mind is kept busy and there is no time for introspective thoughts, which cause havoc with the dispositions of many invalids.

HE greatest handicap that has ever confronted me, and I believe this is true of most of us if we would admit it, was my restless, dissatisfied, discontented spirit abetted by an ungovernable temper. My parents tell me that, as a toddling infant, I would stamp my baby foot in rage when opposed in the slightest whim. As I grew into young ladyhood this temper had not mellowed a whit. It took so little to throw me into a fit of anger or prolonged attacks of moodiness. Nothing seemed to suit me. I was eternally reaching for the things I did not have, simply because they were unattainable. No one place held any great charm for me except that place where I was not.

I am the granddaughter of a man whose whole life was spent in the ministry of love, in the service of God, a man whose life stands out snow white in comparison with my stormy, tempestuous life. Strange that his teachings should have failed to reach their mark with me! I must have been born with the soul of a gypsy, for unrest was assuredly a part of my make-up.

I am now twenty-one years old-young as the world reckons age and have almost overcome my great

W

est handicap. If you are one of those who have endured this curse of temperament and wanderlust let me tell you how to free yourself.

If you really want contentment and peace of mind, if you really desire the beautiful, unruffled calm of a tranquil spirit, bring all your will-power to the fore and conquer yourself. Make your moods subservient to your mind and strengthen that mind that the petty, every day worries may not upset the smoothly moving current of your life.

When wild thoughts enter my mind or a longing for things beyond my grasp I close my eyes tightly, for somehow that seems to help, and say over and over: "No, I don't want to do that. I am perfectly satisfied," until a deep peace envelops me.

E all have our follies and faults, always have had and always will have. Thus we must be constantly on the guard and lookout lest they become the victors, and we the victims of defeat.

Every one has his own battles to fight, his own handicaps to overcome. And as we overthrow and conquer them, one by one, we become stronger and better men and women.

My greatest handicap, and I feel confident that I was not its only possessor, was indulging in petty gossip in various lighter forms, and also finding fault with my friends' companions and my fellowmen. It is an easy matter to pick out your faults, and still easier matter to pick out your neighbor's faults. But it is an altogether different proposition to conquer those faults. I do not know and would not attempt to declare how often I vowed never again to say, or repeat anything evil about my friends and fellowmen. But human nature is so weak in this respect, and over and over again esp ally when in a crowd, I found myself guilty of the offense. It was then that I realized that I must find some other means of overcoming this handicap, for handicap it is.

WHAT would become of the world; or, rather, I

should say, what would have become of the world, had it not been for personal pride and self-respect? The iron rule and fear of results may prompt some people from doing evil, but those people are but few in comparison with those prompted by personal pride and self-respect.

I took advantage of this truth as a means of overcoming my handicap. I set my standard above all such petty folly and gossip. After accomplishing this, I no longer vowed in vain never again to indulge in gossip and fault finding, but kept myself forever conscious of the fact that I was above all such faults. I have found but little, if any, trouble to refrain from all talk that is in any way detrimental to any one's good

name.

Most criminals have some personal pride, self-respect and honor, and below this level they will not fall, It is when one loses all such pride and respect, it is then and not before that all hope for his or her recovery is lost. "Set your standards sky high."

To those who do not believe they can rise above their big as well as little handicaps, I say, "Try and see.”

T

rather would make things harder, both for me and for those of my family who have so faithfully cared for me. By maintaining my interest in my profession and in world events my mind is kept busy and there is no time for introspective thoughts, which cause havoc with the dispositions of many invalids.

HE greatest handicap that has ever confronted me, and I believe this is true of most of us if we would admit it, was my restless, dissatisfied, discontented spirit abetted by an ungovernable temper. My parents tell me that, as a toddling infant, I would stamp my baby foot in rage when opposed in the slightest whim. As I grew into young ladyhood this temper had not mellowed a whit. It took so little to throw me into a fit of anger or prolonged attacks of moodiness. Nothing seemed to suit me. I was eternally reaching for the things I did not have, simply because they were unattainable. No one place held any great charm for me except that place where I was not.

I am the granddaughter of a man whose whole life I was spent in the ministry of love, in the service of God, a man whose life stands out snow white in comparison with my stormy, tempestuous life. Strange that his teachings should have failed to reach their mark with me! I must have been born with the soul of a gypsy, for unrest was assuredly a part of my make-up.

I am now twenty-one years old-young as the world reckons age and have almost overcome my great

W

est handicap. If you are one of those who have endured this curse of temperament and wanderlust let me tell you how to free yourself.

If you really want contentment and peace of mind, if you really desire the beautiful, unruffled calm of a tranquil spirit, bring all your will-power to the fore and conquer yourself. Make your moods subservient to your mind and strengthen that mind that the petty, every day worries may not upset the smoothly moving current of your life.

When wild thoughts enter my mind or a longing for things beyond my grasp I close my eyes tightly, for somehow that seems to help, and say over and over: "No, I don't want to do that. I am perfectly satisfied," until a deep peace envelops me.

OVER the portals of the oracle at Delphi is in

scribed these words: "KNOW THYSELF!" When we have acquired this inner knowledge, this understanding human power, the rest is easy. Conquering myself has been a slow process but one well worth the mental effort expended, for it has brought me a joy of living I have never known before.

E all have our follies and faults, always have had and always will have. Thus we must be constantly on the guard and lookout lest they become the victors, and we the victims of defeat.

Every one has his own battles to fight, his own handicaps to overcome. And as we overthrow and conquer them, one by one, we become stronger and better men and women.

My greatest handicap, and I feel confident that I was not its only possessor, was indulging in petty gossip in various lighter forms, and also finding fault with my friends' companions and my fellowmen. It is an easy matter to pick out your faults, and still easier matter to pick out your neighbor's faults. But it is an altogether different proposition to conquer those faults. I do not know and would not attempt to declare how often I vowed never again to say, or repeat anything evil about my friends and fellowmen. But human nature is so weak in this respect, and over and over again esp ally when in a crowd, I found myself guilty of the offense. It was then that I realized that I must find some other means of overcoming this handicap, for handicap it is.

WHAT would become of the world; or, rather, I

should say, what would have become of the world, had it not been for personal pride and self-respect? The iron rule and fear of results may prompt some people from doing evil, but those people are but few in comparison with those prompted by personal pride and self-respect.

I took advantage of this truth as a means of overcoming my handicap. I set my standard above all such petty folly and gossip. After accomplishing this, I no longer vowed in vain never again to indulge in gossip and fault finding, but kept myself forever conscious of the fact that I was above all such faults. I have found but little, if any, trouble to refrain from all talk that is in any way detrimental to any one's good

name.

Most criminals have some personal pride, self-respect and honor, and below this level they will not fall, It is when one loses all such pride and respect, it is then and not before that all hope for his or her recovery is lost. "Set your standards sky high."

To those who do not believe they can rise above their big as well as little handicaps, I say, "Try and see."

W

HATEVER be a young man's ambition to speak well in public, the one preparation which is easiest, nearest, the most natural and in all ways the best is conversation, for there is no degree of oratorical excellence which may not find in this its appropriate discipline. It is governed by the same laws of art, and he who resolves to be a skilful publicspeaker may thus begin his private training at once and continue it every day.

First, if one wishes to do this, he must wipe out all profanities, deformities, and useless exclamations; all meaningless repetitions such as "Don't you know?" "Don't you see?" "Don't you understand?" "Don't you think so?"-also such drawlings as "Well-a-aa-I'll tell you-a-a- It was this way-a-a—a—'

All such apologies for sluggish thought and deficiency of language must be eliminated. Make no sound but words, and let these be clear, clean and concise. If you cannot find the right word at once, then speak slowly; in any case, start rightly and on a basis of correctness, and keep this up at every step until it becomes a confirmed and unconscious habit. Let no one hear you talk slang because you cannot find better words.

If, on the other hand, you are already fluent, remember there must be no rhetorical bow wow, nor any attempt at a grand oratorical style, which is out of place in conversation. Whether you talk with one or with many, simplicity is the first thing to aim at and the last thing you will acquire.

"Gift of Gab" Not Oratory

Do not confound "gift of gab" with oratory or con

which are clear, strong, and simple, and they express your meaning better than the fifty. This elimination is the process of art. One with the "gift of gab" will read a half column narrative and repeat it to you in two columns. An artistic narrator may repeat it in a paragraph. Rejection and selection must be a daily study. To say no useless thing, to utter no word that can be spared-this is the way of art which demands simplicity and brevity.

Don't Be a Word Miser

OF course we must guard against baldness. We

do not like one who is grumpy and speaks in ejaculations and abbreviations, too lazy to open his mouth. A miser in words is offensive, like a miser with money. A certain fulness of expression is wanted. and the ear must be satisfied.

Shakespeare often uses a word which is not necessary to the meaning but quite necessary to the melody. A word that is needed for melody cannot be spared. This is also the politeness of language. We must not be harsh and abrupt, since sound and meaning rightly used are one. Many persons add charm to their conversation by unconscious rhythm, which may or may not have come from training.

To converse daily throughout the year gives us many opportunities to try every experiment in the use of words, and to select a word with rapidity and precision is a great acquirement.. Some will say, "Never mind the words: attend to your thinking and words will take care of themselves." But if we are to think in words we must acquire the words first, and our problem is to make the thinking words our speaking words, also, and this can come only through discipline.

English Is What We Make It

Good conversation begins in good thinking, and seeks artistic expression. The secret of artistic expression lies in pruning. Your impulse tempts you to use, let us say, fifty words in a statement. A moment's thought shows that twenty could be thrown aside. From the thirty remaining you select twenty

best working vocabulary. On paper there are' 70,000 or 80,000 words, but many of these are words in reserve, to be used but seldom. Roughly speaking, we have from 30,000 to 40,000 good workable words to choose from. Someone has taken pains to find out that of these Milton used, for himself, 8,000 words and Shakespeare 15,000—our language gives plenty of room for thought to revel in. Like the British people it is