band fairly. The children have seen it. By Thy grace, help me to live before him, that our home, instead of being JUST LIKE HIS DAD "Well, what are you going to be, my boy, When you've reached manhood's years? A doctor, a lawyer, a preacher great, Moving sinners to repentant tears?" But he shook his head as he gave reply In a serious way he had. "I don't think I'd want to be any of them I want to be like my Dad." He wants to be like his Dad. You men, did you ever think as you pause That your boy who watches your every move Is building a set of laws? He's molding a life, you're the model for. And whether it's good or bad Depends on the kind of example set \ To the boy who'd be like his Dad. Would you have him go everywhere you go, Have him do just the things you do. And see everything that your eyes behold, And woo all the gods you woo? When you see the worship that shines in the eyes Of your lovable little lad, Could you rest content if he gets his wish, And grows to be like his Dad? It's a joy that none but yourself can fill: It's a charge that you must answer for. It's a duty to show him the road to tread Ere he reaches manhood's door. It's a debt you owe, for the greatest joy On this old earth to be had, Is the joy of having a boy to raise Who wants to be like his Dad. a nagging ‘hell,’ will become a taste of heaven. May I do those things which will interest and please him.
Dt. S. H. Sutherland (left), Biola preiident, points out Campus features to Mr. William L. Cardin, new director of Admissions for the school. Dr. James K. Christian (right), dean, looks on. Then, when he sees that I respect him may it be a means of his coming to know and love You.” God will honor a prayer like this. Commit your every circumstance to the One Who taught us to say, “Our Father.” * * * Just one moment of thinking about your blessings should require an hour of thank ing God for His provisions. * * * A RULE FORFATHER One Sundaymorning father was sit ting in his easy chair reading the news paper. His little boy, all ready to go to Sunday school, came over to give his daddy a good-bye kiss. The father moved his paper aside for a moment as the lad ashed, “And aren’t you going with me again today?" The parent cleared his throat, excusing himself by saying, “No son, I guess I won’t have time today." Again a question came, “Well, daddy, did you go to Sunday school when you were a little boy like me?" The father put down his paper to answer proudly, “Certainly, I did. Every Sunday, without fail. I want you to have the same good training." Pouting, the child walked to ward the front door. In a voice just loud enough so his father could hear him, he speculated, “I guess it won’t do me any good either." The parent didn’t stay home after that. J. Edgar Hoover de clared, “I f I had a son I’d do one thing. I’d tell him the truth and insist that he tell me the truth in return. I would make it a point not to send my child to Sunday school but rather to take him.” It is very familiar and yet the promise of Scrip ture is true, “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it.” 19
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