The Proof Of A Man Is The

Oh, You'll Not Be Any Poorer If You Smile Along Your Way. And Your Lot Will Not Be Harder For The Kindly Things You Say. Don't Imagine You Are Wasting Time For Others That You Spend. You Can Rise To Wealth And Glory And Still Pause To Be A Friend.

At Christmas A Man Is At His Finest Towards The Finish Of The Year; He Is Almost What He Should Be When The Christmas Season's Here; Then He's Thinking More Of Others Than He's Thought The Months Before, And The Laughter Of His Children Is A Joy Worth Toiling For. He Is Less A Selfish Creature Than At Any Other Time; When The Christmas Spirit Rules Him He Comes Close To The Sublime.

Somebody Scoffed, Oh, You'll Never To That - At Least No One Ever Has Done It; But He Took Off His Coat And He Took Off His Hat, And The First Thing We Knew, He'd Begun It.

Courage Must Come From The Soul Within; The Man Must Furnish The Will To Win. So Figure It Out For Yourself, My Lad. You Were Born With All That The Great Have Had.

There's Nothing That Builds Up A Toil-weary Soul Like A Day On A Stream, Back On The Banks Of The Old Fishing Hole Where A Fellow Can Dream. There's Nothing So Good For A Man As To Flee From The City And Lie Full Length In The Shade Of A Whispering Tree And Gaze At The Sky. . . . . It Is Good For The World That Men Hunger To Go To The Banks Of A Stream, And Weary Of Sham And Of Pomp And Of Show They Have Somewhere To Dream. For This Life Would Be Dreary And Sordid And Base Did They Not Now And Then Seek Refreshment And Calm In God's Wide, Open Space And Come Back To Be Men.