"I'm on my way through college, and I'm paying for it here, Some day I'll chuck this job and be a civil engineer. I want an education, and the only way I had Was to come and be a waiter, for I haven't any dad." I don't know how to say it, but some day I know I'll hear, If I still am with the living, of a civil engineer Who has earned his way to glory, and I'll smile at his renown And say: "There stands the waiter of that little college town." _A Man Must Want_ It's wanting keeps us young and fit. It's wanting something just ahead And striving hard to come to it, That brightens every road we tread. That man is old before his time Who is supremely satisfied And does not want some hill to climb Or something life has still denied. The want of poverty is grim, It has a harsh and cruel sting, But fill the cup up to the brim, And that's a far more hopeless thing. A man must want from day to day, Must want to reach a distant goal Or claim some treasure far away, For want's the builder of the soul. He who has ceased to want has dropped The working tools of life and stands Much like an old-time clock that's stopped While Time is mouldering his hands. I'm truly sorry for the man, Though he be millionaire or king, Who does not hold some cherished plan And says he does not want a thing. Want is the spur that drives us on And oft its praises should be sung, For man is old when want is gone-- It's what we want that keeps us young. _Abe Lincoln_ Bill and Jim drove into town on a pleasant summer day, Puffed their pipes and talked of things in a friendly sort of way, Talked of crops and politics, neighbors and the price of nails, Then, as they were jogging on, passed a fellow splitting rails. "Who's that yonder, Bill?" says Jim, "I don't seem to know his face." "That's Abe Lincoln," answered Bill--"got a shabby sort of place." Lawsuit going on one day, Bill and Jim had time to spare, Dropped into the court awhile, found most all their neighbors there. "Moonlight night," one witness said--prisoner's chances mighty small, Till his lawyer rose and proved there wasn't any moon at all. "Who's defending him?" says Jim, "rather clever, I should say." "That's Abe Lincoln," answered Bill, "homely as a bale of hay." Politics was getting hot, meetings almost every night, Orators from north and south talking loudly for the right. Bill and Jim were always there cheering for their party's cause, Then one time a chap got up talking morals more than laws. "Who's that speaking now?" says Jim, "think I've seen his face before." "That's Abe Lincoln," answered Bill, "shall we go or hear some more?"