The Hattiesburg news. (Hattiesburg, Miss.) 1908-1917, 1910-04-12

| Outside my bedroom windows,
writes friend from the South, lis
tree, and every morning, just about
sunrise, a mockingbird alights in it
and sings the most wondrous song.
1t is a beautiful thing to be awak-
e1ed in the morning in this way and
it's sets the whole day to music. No
one, l guess, has such delightful
rising bell
The letter brings to mind Carlyle's
beautiful thought, Every day that
is born into the world comes like a
burst of music and rings itself all
the day through; and thou may make
of it a dance, a dirge or life-march
as thou wilt"
We may not all rise in the morn
ing to the tune of hooking birds; but
the day can come in, as Carlyle says,
| like burst of music, and we may
make of it dance dirge or llfe'
march. The butterflies of life make
it dance; many a worker makes 1t
a dirge; but those who realize its re-
sponsibilities and shoulder them Joy
fully, who have gained an under
standing of the true meaning of life,
make it life-march.
It may be beautiful and happy
thing to dance through life. But the
one with any aspirations does not
want always to dance. 1t is a light
and frivolous soul that wishes to
dance all through life, that is con-
| tent to let others do the work and
bear all the sorrows, and who lightly
losses all responsibilities and cares
off his shoulders for others to carry.
Such a life Is selfish. 1t is narrow.
And it does not know the real joy
and satisfaction of the one who takes
hold of the big things of life and
learns the lessons, and gets the broad
ened outlook that toll and care and
contact with others bring. Dancing
through life is Narrowing it, and
narrowing it to a mode of living
that doesn't touch it's greatest ex-
periences.
Few would deliberately choose to
make ones day dirge. Yet many
do. They get up in the morning with
crouch. Instead of deliberately
making an effort to shake it off, and
keeping up the effort until they do
shake it off, they let the ill-temper of
| the sulkiness master them. 1t holds
them in tight grip. They greet the
| family with a growl and gloom imme-
| diately spreads over the atmosphere
| of the home The dirge has begun.
The minue they reach the office they
| begin fusillade of fault-inding. Ste
| nographers and clerks get nervous
and everything goes wrong all day
The dirge is in full blast. They go
home grouchier than ever and the day
winds up with children punished and
a wife in tears. And the dirge ends
accelerando, fortissimo, grande finale.
Or else one arises with the feeling
that life's a grind that living isn't
worth while. The thought of the
days tasks fills one with melancholy.
They are performed with a woeful
tread and gloomy countenance.
A smile, even if forced, will help
to change the tune. A persistent eff
fort to be cheerful will bring results
| and before one knows it the dirge
| has changed to a two-step, the day
is bright and life worth living.
A dirge is not a pleasant accom-
paniment to the day. 1t is useless.
1t can be banished.
But, ah, the one who makes a life
march of the day. He shoulders his
responsibilities, whatever they may
be, and steps out with sure, firm
tread and courage and confidence in
his heart His day will ring like a
burst of music and night will find
him with satisfaction in his heart,
I