. The Messenger [February 1910] . tch-it. My son, said Old George, come with me, I will make you presi-dent of all Chickendom. Page HI Restlessness Mary Yeula Wescott, 10. Oh, better than the life we are living now Is the dream of the life to be;When we leave the port where our ships are moored, And sail for the open sea. Out where the waves leap mountain high And the winds blow loud and strong;Where the sails are wet by the dashing spray And the cordage creaks day long. Out where the stormbirds shriek and call. And hover about the mast;Where the sun is hid in a mist eclipse, And the gray clou
. The Messenger [February 1910] . tch-it. My son, said Old George, come with me, I will make you presi-dent of all Chickendom. Page HI Restlessness Mary Yeula Wescott, 10. Oh, better than the life we are living now Is the dream of the life to be;When we leave the port where our ships are moored, And sail for the open sea. Out where the waves leap mountain high And the winds blow loud and strong;Where the sails are wet by the dashing spray And the cordage creaks day long. Out where the stormbirds shriek and call. And hover about the mast;Where the sun is hid in a mist eclipse, And the gray clouds hurry past. But those on shore who have sailed afar, Say tempt not the stormy main;For none who venture upon its waves, Ever return again. But we—Oh, we long for the mighty sweep Of the winds oer the briny sea;For if greater the dangers that lurk out there Then greater the joys must be. And we fretfully wait on the peaceful shore, And long to sail far away;Out where the winds blow wild and free, Into the fuller day. Page 142. A Trip in an Areoplane^ Tempe Boddie, 10. Why dont something happen so that we can have a good time!said Gladys to her friend Mildred. Our Christmas holidays arereally tiresome! Gladys and Mildred were home from college. They both lived ina beautiful little town in the mountains of New York, and as theywere the best of friends, they stayed together most of the time. We certainly have had the dullest time of our lives, Mildred de-clared. There goes that door-bell again. I wont answer it this time, forI have already been disappointed about twenty-five times this morn-ing. A telegram for Miss Gladys, said the maid, entering. Gladyssnatched it up and eagerly read it. Oh, Mildred! it is from Mary, and she is coming up here—^Oh! dotake it and read it. It seems too good to be true! This is what Mildred read: Father successful with you and Mildred to take trip with us. Coming for you inauto at once. Page US How perfectly grand! cried Mildred.
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