The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1919-04-10
THURSDAY. APRIL 10. 1913.
THE RACE.

THE RACE.
N We cannot always be at our best, it matters
not how hard we may try. Days win come when
the plans we have made will be knocked into q
cooked hat, when our efforts viii seem as naught,
and when everything win seem to combine to
prevent our carrying out the program of the day.
great French writer has said that the best
work Of an author is brought about through the
diaressions from the plan of the work with which
he started out. So, perhaps we may take COM
fort to our souls that this is 50 in other work
q well ~ in writing After all, could we at the
beginning Of the day map out the days work and
carry It forward to the end without break in
our plans we might 60 far, but that our jour-
lnsy would lead always to the best is to be
doubted.
There, are times when it is necessary for those
who ride along the Kings Highway to 60 at q
swift pace, taking no note of the flowers that
bloom along the pathway, stopping not to sense
the beauty Of the early morn, the splendor Of the
MONDAY. or the glory Of the sunset; pausing in
the swift journey from the morn to the eve for
nausht. but dashing past all obstacles, making
swift 70 the goal
But we cannot expect to make life one con-
tinuous race course There are other things be-
sides prizes to strike for and we must be con-
lent Il we win trophy now and then, and not
expect that each day will offer to us some spe-
leial premium.
Indeed, in the great quest upon which each
soul must set out for himself, there would be
little Of adventure if each day we rode fast and
hard from point to point in the journey, without
divergence into the bypaths which lead away
from the main road, sometimes into the forest
~ difficulty, but often as not into the garden Of
pleasant fancy.
q
Il may be that we know the prize that awaits
hs st the end Of the swift race we are making.
But 4 may be. too, that If we pause now and
then d our mad rush to reach the goal and take
time 70 wander aside from the beaten path to
gather the lavish blooms. to drink In the song
that sounds above u.s. cutting our way through
the growth that would hold US back, we may
find ourselves at last before some glorious cita-
del which offers US . high adventure. and it may
even be that we shall find contest ready to hand
IN the winning Of which there win be greater
glory and for which there Is set higher reward
than any that follows the path that leads undev-
iatinsly from the starting point to the goal.
However ambitious we may be, however de-
termiued to win our own way, however imbued
with the power to drive forward, if we listen,
we shall hear voices that call to US along the
way-sometimes laughing voices, calling to Us
in comradely fashion, sad voices. sometimes,
which should we pause to listen. win touch our
hearts with their pathetic cadences; urgent
voices. oftimes, seeming to us, intent upon the
race, Ike the voices of so many enemies to draw
~ away to humiliation.
But the prizes of life are not always at the
md Of the journey. Sometimes they come to u
~ unexpected ways. Sometimes we find them
r. The lifted face Of child. Sometimes. If we
stoop TO the blossoms that crowd about our feet,
We shail find them hidden there. Sometimes they
are vet with tears and sometime we find them
oroadered thick in jewels upon drab robe that
we had thought to be the garb of some dull duty.
Lie Is large in its promise, but far larger in
sts 1ulilllment. It asks only that we listen to
tne voices on the way and learn to discern the
diffGence between siren voices that would lure
", and those higher, clearer, truer voices that
eal! 70 Us.