Sept. 10, 1915. 
Ca an ne an ane ee 
(en 
PO Or hIAAGALNe? 
The magazine was fresh from the press— 
The neatest I ever have séen; 
A marvel of printing no less, 
All errorless, type whole and clean, 
So, heaving a sigh of relief, 
I halted my hurrying pen; 
Abrupt came the voice of the chief, 
“That's good. Go and do it again.” 
O, daub it, or scribble, or till, 
Or build, as it seems to you best 
And look for reward where you will, 
But dream not fruition means rest; 
For, sing the most glorious lays, 
Or drain the most pestilent fen, 
The voice ’ere it ceases to praise, 
Wiul bid you, “Go do it again.” 
Old laurels must wither and_ fall; 
Win others and never demur— 
That, longing for manger and stall, 
Your lot 1s the lash and the spur, 
When Gabriel blows from the skies 
Awakening the ashes of men, 
The workers shall hear as they rise, 
“Well done. Do it over again.” 
X-X-X 
THs week I print Arthur Guiterman’s little poem “Do 
it Again” espécially for the Editor. Why? Well, I 
intended to mention the matter before, but it slipped my 
mind. The Editor must have been rather pleased with 
himself one morning—the morning he wrote the leader 
about the Breeze for the August 20th edition. I don’t 
wender at it either, for a weekly paper with a four-color 
ecver and then seventy-odd pages of news, illustrations 
and advertising—all “live’’ ones too—is something to be, 
well; a little proud of. Then the increase of over three 
hundred in circulation must be especially gratifying to 
the Editor, for, after all, that is really the supreme test of 
a publication, and that the Breeze has not been found 
wanting in this particular is evidenced by the immense 
summer advertising patronage it has taken care of. 
- X-X-X 
T am sure that all friends of the: Breeze and its pro- 
gressive management will be glad to learn of its prosper- 
ity, for the Breeze has become an established North 
Shore institution, and I am glad of it. But, Mr. Editor 
don’t forget, “Do it Again.” 
X-X-X 
ALTHOUGH of English birth, I like a joke, and 
furthermore, I can see the point and laugh at ifthe 
same day, anyway. The most of us can laugh at a joke— 
if it is on the other fellow, but I enjoy one on myseli— 
sometimes. 
It was at the Oceanside the other night, and she 
floated over to where I was standing. A stunning vision 
of loveliness, she wore—but this is not “A Daily Hint from 
Paris.” 
Anyhow she is a young lady friend of mine, who 
knows the secret of “Danny Dow,” and cordially shaking 
hands, she said: 
“T envy you the “Around and About” page in the 
BREEZE, 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE and Reminder 
~l 
a8 
MOU BY (NIN Bey NEieUhe re 
ene 
Naturally I was pleased and started on a long dis- 
sertation on the literary merit of the page, when she in- 
tetrupted me with the remark, “Oh! no, it is not for the 
literary merit I envy you it is your courage.” 
I can still see the bright smile this dainty little maid 
lashed at me as she flitted away, probably to genily 
‘probe” somebody else, but I enjoyed it as much as she 
did, and—then some. 
. 
X-X-X 
THERE is a clever little girl, named 
who presides over the rack at the entrance to the 
dining room of one of our leading North Shore hotels, 
and Kathleen—there I told part of her name anyway— 
has a very good memory. — ue ; 
I was standing watching the brilliant scene in this 
dining room the other night, when Kathleen handed a 
gentleman his hat. 
“How do you know that is my hat?” said the gentle- 
mun. 
“ldon't know, sir.” 
as hb Y 
Chen why did you give it to me 
Quick as a flash came back the reply, “Because you 
gave .it to me, sir.” And she didn’t even smile. 
Well, 
Sie) miles 4) 1e) 'e, 19) oie) ete 
39) 
DDI 
HAT a handsome appearance the ball room at the 
Oceanside makes at night. With its fine lighting ef- 
fect and splendid well-kept floor, and the music—but that 
is another story. What impressed me particularly last 
night was the dancers. Have the new dances changed, 
or have I changed? In the past I have written some very 
unpleasant criticisms of the new dances. Loudly voicing 
miy preference for the old waltz, galop, schottische and 
two-step, also I have expatiated at length on the stately 
beauty of the minuet.. But as I watched the dancers last 
night it seemed to me that now all the objectionable fea- 
tures of the present day dances have been entirely elimin- 
ated, and in their place I see only beauty, charm and re- 
fuied grace of movement that is a joy to behold. 
lave sthe dances: chaneved> have) changed, "or 1S it 
due to the watchful care of Mr. Albert Latscha, who the 
management have retained to take charge of the dances. 
{ must ask my friend Mr. Latscha about this. 
. X-X-X 
HAVE always been a great admirer of both the writ- 
ings and sayings of the late Elbert Hubbard, who was 
cne of the victims of the Lusitania horror. Furthermore 
my idea of a thoroughly useful American—the American 
who has made this great country the commercial wonder 
of the world, who has made possible the great colleges, 
the great museums, the great hospitals, and the thousand 
and one things which we enjoy today—not forgetting our 
bread and butter—is the man without even the aid of a 
college career, whose education has been limited to the 
common school, and often not that, but who by sheer 
force of will, indomitable energy, stupendous ambition, 
and against almost insurirountable obstacles, has forced 
his way to the front, and—stayed there. 
To such a man the Fra’s requisites for an all-round 
education must particularly appeal. They are 
Ambition 
Aspiration 
Application 
Respiration, and 
Perspiration. 
