Strange to say, we are friends today. I wouldn’t do him an injury for any price, and I don’t think he would injure me—any more than to chase me out of a warm spot again, and warm his feet at my expense; for this seems to be the game of life with most business people. Some of them prosper and some of them do not. My neighbor has gained but little. He took all I had in the world, but it didn’t prosper in his hands. I would not trade positions or future prospects with him today. It doesn’t always pay to chase a man up to get possession of the warm spot he occupied. It didn’t pay me at all when I used to chase the cows up for the same purpose. The intermittent moments of cold and warm feet made the cold feel all the more chilly when I left the warm spot and stepped into the frost-laden grass. No doubt my neighbor realizes the same truth now. He would be far happier if he had never wronged me—if he had never chased me up to get possession of the spot I had warmed. We all feel that way, dear readers, no odds how hard we try to hide the fact from the world. We are far happier in occupying only the small spot we have warmed ourselves; for it is not natural to treat human beings the same as we sometimes treat the inoffensive cows. FLOWERS FOR THE LIVING Sending flowers to the dead is a beautiful tribute to their worth while living. Some day I shall lie in my coffin with closed lips and folded hands, looking through dead and expressionless eyes into the great eternity that opens to receive me; and those who loved me will bring sweet flowers and lay them near my hard bed and drop a tear to mark the place of our parting. But I will not be able to smell the flowers, nor to see the tear, nor to look into their beloved faces and catch the gleam of friendship and the glory of human love. It will then be too late for a responsive smile and hand squeeze and a tender word of recognition; for I will be far away from the touch of friendship, and only the cold clod of the senseless mortal will be there to receive the gift of love. Below I publish a bouquet that was sent to me while my heart is hungry for appreciation, and my soul longs for congenial companionship; for we are all groping our way through this jungle of theory and blindfolded guess work, and we are glad to know that others are going our way: Reading, Pa., January 7, 1910. Jake Haiden, Esq., Chatham Run, Pa.