Margaret’s knees almost gave way under her--surely she must be dreaming--it could not possibly be herself to whom the committeeman was advancing with a light blue plush case--every one was clapping their hands, and the boys had so forgotten themselves as to whistle through their fingers and noisily stamp their feet. [Illustration: “MARGARET, YOU HAVE WON THE PRIZE.”] “It gives me great pleasure,” said Mr. Edwards, “to give this twenty-dollar gold piece to Margaret Hawkins, and to pronounce her the best speller in the school.” Poor Mable cried herself to sleep that night, but it was a good lesson for her--it taught her to be more considerate of others, and that there were something at which she could be beaten. Every one treated Margaret with increased respect, and her success was also good for her--she began to improve in her other studies, and as she gained in confidence, gradually became, if not one of the best, at least a very good scholar. Mr. Edwards says his next prize will be given for the best all-around pupil at the close of the term--and Mable is once more looking forward with hope. THE TRUTH ABOUT LUCK. How often we hear some one say: “My, but he’s lucky!” or “It’s better to be born lucky than rich.” Boys and girls are too often in the habit of thinking that one of their schoolmates are “lucky” because they always stand well in their classes and frequently have spending money in their pockets. It is not likely that “luck” had anything to do with it. They probably stood well and were at the head of the class in school because they studied and tried harder than the other scholars, and had money to spend because they spent their time out of school hours in working to earn it instead of at play. Some years ago I happened to find myself near the terminal of the great East River Bridge in New York City. Two little boys were standing near one of the large iron posts crying their afternoon papers. I tarried near them because I was waiting for a particular car. One little fellow said to the other,-- “How many papers have you sold today, Tommie?” “Nearly one hundred an’ fifty,” was Tommie’s quick reply. “Honor bright?” “Yes; honor bright.” “Whoopee! but ain’t you in big luck, Tommie?” “Luck!” exclaimed Tommie, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “There ain’t no luck about it; I’ve just been everlastingly at it since four o’clock this morning--that’s all!” And that is the _all_ of real success. Those who achieve success are “everlastingly at” what they are trying to do. Tommie was right in declining to have his hard and honest work cheapened by calling the result of it luck. “You are the luckiest chap I ever saw,” I once heard a little boy about sixteen years say to another boy of about the same age. [Illustration: “HOW MANY PAPERS HAVE YOU SOLD TODAY, TOMMY?”] “Why do you say that?” asked the other. “Because you have had your salary raised twice in the same year.”