THE FIGHTER

If life were all easy, we should degenerate into weaklings—into human mush. It is the fighting spirit that makes us strong. Nor do any of us lack for a chance to exercise this spirit. Struggle is everywhere; as Kearny said at Fair Oaks, "There is lovely fighting along the whole line."

I fight a battle every day Against discouragement and fear; Some foe stands always in my way, The path ahead is never clear! I must forever be on guard Against the doubts that skulk along; I get ahead by fighting hard, But fighting keeps my spirit strong.

I hear the croakings of Despair, The dark predictions of the weak; I find myself pursued by Care, No matter what the end I seek; My victories are small and few, It matters not how hard I strive; Each day the fight begins anew, But fighting keeps my hopes alive.

My dreams are spoiled by circumstance, My plans are wrecked by Fate or Luck; Some hour, perhaps, will bring my chance, But that great hour has never struck; My progress has been slow and hard, I've had to climb and crawl and swim, Fighting for every stubborn yard, But I have kept in fighting trim.

I have to fight my doubts away, And be on guard against my fears; The feeble croaking of Dismay Has been familiar through the years; My dearest plans keep going wrong, Events combine to thwart my will, But fighting keeps my spirit strong, And I am undefeated still!

S.E. Kiser.

From "The New York American."

[Illustration: SAMUEL ELLSWORTH KISER]