Evening star., 1924-10-31
THIS AND THAT
BY c. E. TRACEWELL.

Doing things in halfway fashion
is such a common trick that ordi-
narily it does not attract any particu-
lar attention. All OF us are' the vic
tins of II, at some time or other, and
all of us are the perpetrators of it.
If We do not do a thing halfway,
then we do it six-sevenths of seven
eighths of the way to completeness,
often feeling as proud of our accom-
plishment as If we had made a 100
per cent job of it, when actually we
ought to be somewhat ashamed of
ourselves, and of the kink in human
nature which makes it possible for
us to be so easily satisfied.
What a bright new world this
would be If every man, woman and
child would resolve to complete
every while thing in a whole
hearted, worth while way! Then EN-
ployers could take out the time
clock, that inhumane invention Of the
| efficiency devil, and employees would
stop watching the clock" too.
Not only would the work of the
world be done as 1t should be,
promptly, completely, but a spirit of
satisfaction beyond anything known
today would descend upon business
and private life, because every one
would feel at last that he had actual
ly done his best, and when he has
done his best, nobody else can ask
him to do any more.
II have done my best" the angels sing.
As they fash through heaven, wing and wing |;
Il have done my best, and even Thou,
Lord, can ask no more Of me now"
y *x X
In the home the beans are put on
to cook-and, in cases out of 10,
end up by being burned. Just why
the best housewives insist on let
ting the beans burn is beyond ex-
PLANTATION, unless one remembers that
mankind seems to prefer to do most
things halfway.
BEANS" says the busy wife, sitting
down to draw few threads of en-
broidery. U believe you draw
threads.) She has had this experience
before. AS a matter Of fact, there
is probably no housewife in the
world who has not allowed beans to
burn.
So she sits there, embroidering
away. when she ought to be watching
the beans, and the first thing she
knows a peculiarly acrid odor begins
to trickle through the atmosphere.
Something is burning" you cas-
ually remark.
"Oh, those beans!' she screams,
jumping up. and away, but it Is too
late: the beans, if. not spilled. are
burned beyond recognition, and the
house is full of a bitter smell; the
fat is not exactly in the fire, the
fire is in the beans, that is all.
Little Susie comes home from
school
will you take the broom, little
he 1ao off = he
front walk" says her mother.
Little Susie, whose mind is on
other things, seizes the broom as if
IT were a hot poker. and stogily
ambles out the front door. Over the
brow Of the hill the western breeze
sends the Autumn leaves, brown and
golden, shot through with tints of
red, scurying along the street and
sidewalk as if all the devils of the
arbors of the world were after them.
1t is a grand chance petite Susan
has. to display, in little. a quality
which in after life would leave her
a shining example of completeness,
thoroughness, doing the thing clear
through.
Little Susie, the angels of thy bet
ter nature are watching thee, as thou
taketh up the broom and maketh it
to sweep down upon the playful
leaves. tossing and tumbling them
around thy little feet!
Disappoint not l pray thee, those
good angels Of that better nature
of thine, Susannei
''Shucks," mutters Susy, watching
her mother out of the corner of her
eyes. II knew I would have to sweep
these old leaves of just the minute
I got home"
The innocent leaves swirl under
vicious strokes of the broom. For
every eight leaves swept along two
are left behind. But mother, stand