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PACE SIX Some people are never happy unless they are miserable, Their joy in life is to tell to all and sundry how sad and suffering they are, To add zest to conversation they "talk of graves, of-worms, and epitaphs," If nothing sorrowful or gruesome has happened recently, they exercise their melan- choly imaginations to conjure up some- thing very dreadful which might hap- pen, No matter how far-fetched it may be, it makes them happy with an ex- cuse to be miserable, A Canadian minister now resident in Australia used to tell the following story. An old Scottish couple who never had any children were sitting ore evening by their childless fireside, The leaping flames in the big old-fashioned fire-place showed the homely comfort and abundant provisions of the cot- tage, including a number of hams hanging from the ceiling and darken: ing in the smoke, Presently the old woman began to wéep. "What for are ye greetin'?"' asked her husband, "Oh I'm sair tribble," "An' what's the tribble wumman?" "Oh, 1 was sittin' an' thinkin', an' as I was thinkin' I thocht if we had had a wee laddie an' his name was Johnnie, an' if he was sittin' right there on a wee stool, an' if the fire burned up high an' burned the cord holdin' up that big ham, an' the ham fell doon on his head an' killed him, wouldn't that be sair tribble?" There is many another besides the old Scottish woman who goes far afield to find a wee Johnnie to be troubled about, But once such find a cause to be miserable, théy are com- paratively happy. There is a species of sad satisfaction in having some- thing about which to speak mournfully and dolefully to shake the head. They like to take a fall out of those light. hearted, healthy, cheery people who persist in seeing the sunshine which is in the world, and in being impeni- tently happy. Above all there is a love for the melodramatic or sensational in telling something very dreadful which has just happened or is going to happen. Strange to say not a few look upon it as pious to believe that we are al ways on the brink of a catastrophe. They are afraid to he riotously happy for fear that they will be punished by some immediate disaster, They are afraid to say that things are going well with them lest it might tempt Providence to take all their good things away from them. They are afraid even to rejoice in a beautiful day, because the spiteful Deity might take revenge by sending a terrible storm tomorrow. As a matter of fact this it not piety. It is not belief in a good God, in a Father in heaven, It is a survival of old heathen superstitions. It is an inheritance from our fargone heathen ancestry. It is found in every heathen fashed. I'm in salir land where people believe in cruel and malicious deities, In China mothers give their children names with a noble meaning hoping that their children may be as noble as the names: But they keep these secret 'lest the gods should send some evil upon their chil- dren, and instead call the children by some opprobrious nicknames that the envious deities may not think it worth their while to harm them. We once had in our employ a boy whose proper name was Leng-a, which means "clever," "intelligent," But the mother would hardly whisper that nante for fear of the gods. Instead she loudly called him Gong-a, "a fool." Ass, stone, monkey, dog, were common nicknames given to children for fear of tempting the gods to injure them, It is not piety to believe such things about our Father in heaven, It is not gratitude to be forever finding some- thing about which to be miserable, something which portends disaster and catastrophe, It is piety and gratitude to be glad and rejoice in the good things God has bestowed, to have faith that He will continue to bestow them in the years that are yet to be, There are few if any habits, except- ing those which are actually immoral and criminal, which do so much harm in the world as the Misery Habit, The imaginary invalids who are always in- flicting their pains and aches and symptoms on their neighbors, the misery mongers who are always being ill-treated, always foretelling evil, al- ways worrying over ills that never happen and never likely to happen, make martyrs of their friends and are nuisances to themselves. It grows upon them with the years. It becomes an obsession, a mania, often drawing dangerously near to madness, Is there any cure for it? Assuredly. There are at least two cures, Take them separately if you will. Better still take them together. The first one is Will Power. Realize that the trouble is not in the outside world, but in yourself. Then set your will to look on the sunshine of life and not on its clouds. One man who had the Misery Habit, and tried this cure wrote of it long afterwards. "From that time life has had an entirely different aspect. ...All at once the whole world has turned good to me." The other, the surer cure is Reli- gious Faith. Belief in a good God, in the kind of a God revealed in Jesus Christ, is the sovereign remedy. Dr. Saleeby, the English authority on this subject, says: "Worry is something that may be transcended, and the pow- er by which you transcend it is trust in God and the service of man." Pro- fessor James, the great American psychologist wrote, "The sovereign cure for worry is religious faith." Try these two cures together. Take them morning, evening and moonday, and when you lie awake at night. Per- gist in the treatment, and we guaran- tee that it will cure you of the Misery Habit. 1921, by McClure News- paper Syndicate. (By Howard R. Garis.) Copyright "Will you please come home early again today?" asked Nurse Jane Fuz- zy Wuzzy, as the rabbit bunny hop- ped down the fromt walk of his hol- low stump bungalow ore morning. "What is it this time--another tea party? Mr. Longears wanted to know. "Chocolate cake!" answered the muskrat lady housekeeper. "I'm go- ing to make you a chocolate cake, and 1 know you like that™ "Indeed I do!" laughed the bunny, and his pink nose twinkled so fast that he had to hold his paw over it "And ll be home early." Off through the forest hopped Mr. Longears, looking this way and that for am adventure, and, almost before he kmew it, he was at the hollow stump school. The windows were open, for the day was warm, and Uncle Wiggily heard the lady mouse teacher say: "Now, Curly, you will have to go and stand in the cormer. I have let you off quite often enough. Go in the corner, and you must stay in af- ter school and write fifty times the words: '1 am sorry 1 was a bad pig"!™ "Oh, ho!™ thought Uncle Wiggily to himseif, as he entered the hollow stump school. "There is trouble here. I must see if I can help cure it - The rabbit gentleman saw Curly Twistytail, the little pig boy, stanu- ing in one corner by himself. There were splashes and splotches of ink on Curly's paws and tail, and some on the school room floor. "What has Curly been doing, Lady Mouse, that he must stand in the corner?" asked the bunay geatle- 'man. . "I am sorry to say Curly has been rather bad," answered the lady mouse teacher. *"'He stirred the ink in his well with his pen until he splashed the black stuff all over. I told him, several times, to stop, bat every time I looked at him there he was stirring the ink again like mad.* "Why did you do that, Curly? asked Uncle Wiggily kindly. n Ghejun Woy was all the lit- eo pl answered, hanging his head. "Maybe he thought he was stirring wp batter for a cake," said Susie Lit- tle tail. "Well, whatever he thomght, I hope he will never again stir up his ink," spoke the lady mouse teacher. "Will you stay and hear the animal children recite, Uncle Wiggily?" she But when Susie spoke of "cake™ that made the bunny rabbit gentle- man remember what Nurse Jane had sald. So, excusing himself, he hop- ped back to his hollow stump bunga- 'ow. Nurse Jane met him at the "Is the chocolate cake baked?" asked the bunny rabbit gemtieman. "Alas, no." sadly answered the EN AR en A can't for the cake." uy my "Can't you stir them in a bowl with 2 fork, as you used to do before ; 1H 7 h | mouse, bad." www "Ser-gsvey gy CT PET MRE Te piggie boy a ing him write ---- "re he | 4 3 OSHAWA, ONTARIO, SATURDAY, AUGUST 5, 1922 ° Ww iy Ca -~ " wr , "How?" asked Lady Mouse. a . ears, "If Curly is so fond of stir "I think we can teach that little |things, let him stir eggs. grining etter lesson than mak- {be more useful than stirring his ink /fifty times about being | well, and this may cure him." That will "Try it," said the lady mouse tea- cher. 8 o Curly was allowed to 1 "Let him come to my bungalow, s.uvol aud go to the hollow wo and beat eggs,' answered Mr, Long- bungalow with Uncle Wiggily. "Here is your new egg beater, Nurse Jane!" called. the bunny, as he led Curly in. "Now stir away, my piggie boy!" sald Uncle Wiggily. "1 hope you'll get enough for once." So Curly stirred the eggs in the bowl, and he was such a good beater | that soon they were all frothy and foamy, and Nurse chocolate cake, "I'm not going to be bad any more and splash my ink," said the piggie chap, as ha smelled the cake. "All right, I'm glad you're cured," Uncle Wiggily said, as he cut a large ES Jane made the the Twistytall chap stir his ink. So this teaches us that even a chocolate cake is good for something, And if the grapevine doesa't climb up on the roof and shout down the chimney to scare the gas stove, I'll tell you next about Uncle 'Wigsily slice for Curly. And never again did | and Johnnie's gun. BU Co - j; ; ' -. * , x NN" 3; iit : v e | EU KI " I hae) HES Six Now . 2 Master Conadats Standard Car Fours i 1 'Establishing a new standar of values. 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