sAlES COITSCIOUS TUMBER DEATERS

I(lISE]TASIER

with thc SPIINE-IOK SYSIEIS Corh in on the growing morkcl for round <onditlonhgl Here'r q befiGr ocou:ticol lilc' developed for rinpllf,ed appli(ctlon. Get thc whole rfory of NOl5ElltASTEl with the Spline-l,ok Syrlem, lhe qcourli.sl tile whl(h ourEts, tNSutAtES, DEcoRAtES,

Wciting

Serene, I fold my hands and wait, Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea; I rave no more 'gainst Time or FateFor lo ! my own shall come to me.

I stay my haste, I make delays, For what avails this eager pace? I stand amid the eternal ways, And what is mine shall know my face.

Asleep, awake, by night or day, The friends I seek are seeking me; No wind can drive my bark astray, Nor change the tide of destiny.

What matter if I stand alone?

I wait with joy the coming years; My heart shall reap where it hath sown, And garner up its fruit or tears.

The waters know their own and draw The brook that springs in yonder heights; So fows the good with equal law, Unto the soul of pure delights.

The stars come nightly to the sky, The tidal wave unto the sea; Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high, Can keep my own away from me.

-John Burroughs.

Work

A little child, when asked his idea of work, said, "Anyt-hing I have to do is work, and anything I WANT to do is play"-which answer showed that the child recognized his relation to that form of activity known as "work"; also it demonstrated that work had been presented to his mind a.s drudgery.

Drudgery is work which we make difficult; which is done because we must do it, and which we regard with aversion; it is the hard, sordid form of work, seemingly without hope, and apart from any of the joy of accomplishment.

Work'should be a joy; it should be the motive of our lives; and it would be if we regarded it in the light of its being a labor of love; but we have come to think of what we, call labor with almost a sense of pain. Most of us resolve our work into labor and, while it results in accomplishment, it becomes unpleasant and strenuous in the method of its execution.

The secret of the true love of work is the hope of success in that work; not for the money reward, for the time spent, or for the skill exercised, but for the successful result in the accomplishment of the work itself-Sidney A. Wetmer.

What Frcrnz Sqid About His Picrno

My piano is to me what his boat is to the seaman, what his horse is to the Arab: nay, more, it has been till now my eye, my speech, my life. Its strings have vibrated under my passions, and its yielding keys have obeyed my every caprice. Perhaps the secret tie which holds me so close to it is a delusion; but I hold the piano very high.

In my view it takes the first place in the hierarchy of instruments; it is the oftenest used and the widest spread. In the circumstances of its seven octaves it embraces the whole circumference of an orchestra; and a man's ten fingers are enough to render the harmonies which, in an orchestra, are only brought out by the combination of hundreds of musicians.

We can give broken chords like the harp, long sustained notes like the wind, staccati and a thousand passages which before it seemed only possible to produce on this or that instrument. The piano has on one side the capacity of assimilation; the capacity of taking into itself the life of all instruments; on the other it has its own life, its own growth, its own individual development.

A Silent Witness

He was before a local court charged with a petty offense, when the judge asked if he had a character witness he could call. He said he thought the sheriff would make a good witness for him. The sheriff rose and promptly decl?red he had never seen the man before.

. "See?" said the defendant. "I've been ten years in this county and the sheriff never saw me before."

Rcising Crops

"If you want to raise a crop for one year, plant corn. If you want to raise a crop for decades, plant trees. ff you want to raise a crop for centuries, raise men. If you want to raise a crop for eternities, raise democracies." (Remark made by Carl A. Schenck, famous international forester.)

Thct Explcrined It

A visitor to an insane asylum asked an inmate what his name was.

"George Washington," said the inmate.

The visitor said: "But the last tiine I was here vou told me your name was Abe Lincoln."

The inmate said: "That was by my first wife."

Chcrles R. Wakeley Wrote:

It isn't the thing that we get, my friend, And it isn't how much we know;

It's the will to serve, it's the hand we lend, It's the light that our lanterns throw.

Wholesde Lunber and its Products

Douglcrs Fir

Ponderosa & Sugcrr Pine

Redwood

PORTLAND OFTICE

I. L. Hollcnd

U. S. Nctl. Bcrnk Bldg,

ATKITISOTI.STUTZ

GOMPAIIY ll2 Mcnket St., Scrn Francisco, ll

Phone GArlield l-1809Teletype SF:130 luory Pine Gompany of Galifornia

Mill qr Dinubo, Colif.

PONDEROSA PINE

SUGAR PINE

WHITE FIR,

CARIOAD OR PARTIAT SHIPN,TENTS

Southen Galifornia Branch

Snles Office ond Yord

815 South lvy Avenue Monrovio, Cqlif.

Phone ELiofi 8-l l5l