The failures are not in the ditches, The failures are not in the ranks, They have missed the acquirement of riches, Their fortunes are not in the banks. Their virtues are never paraded, Their worth is not always in view, But they're fighting their battles unaided, And fighting them honestly, too. There are failures to-day in high places The failures aren't all in the low; There are rich men with scorn in their faces Whose homes are but castles of woe. The homes that are happy are many, And numberless fathers are true; And this is the standard, if any, By which we must judge what men do. Wherever loved ones are awaiting The toiler to kiss and caress, Though in Bradstreet's he hasn't a rating, He still is a splendid success. If the dear ones who gather about him And know what he's striving to do Have never a reason to doubt him, Is he less successful than you? You think that the failures are many, You judge by men's profits in gold; You judge by the rule of the penny-- In this true success isn't told. This falsely man's story is telling, For wealth often brings on distress, But wherever love brightens a dwelling, There lives; rich or poor, a success. The Sorry Hostess She said she was sorry the weather was bad The night that she asked us to dine; And she really appeared inexpressibly sad Because she had hoped 'twould be fine. She was sorry to hear that my wife had a cold, And she almost shed tears over that, And how sorry she was, she most feelingly told, That the steam wasn't on in the flat. She was sorry she hadn't asked others to come, She might just as well have had eight; She said she was downcast and terribly glum Because her dear husband was late. She apologized then for the home she was in, For the state of the rugs and the chairs, For the children who made such a horrible din, And then for the squeak in the stairs. When the dinner began she apologized twice For the olives, because they were small; She was certain the celery, too, wasn't nice, And the soup didn't suit her at all. She was sorry she couldn't get whitefish instead Of the trout that the fishmonger sent, But she hoped that we'd manage somehow to be fed, Though her dinner was not what she meant.