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Sip ani Soto it the Coast.

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Sip ani Soto it the Coast. NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. received a good many letters on the subject. When the fight comes off will my correspondents remember I thlIk they will. The difficulty of uprightness in public life is very great. You cannot have both the pickings of the coward and the rewards of the brave. ABER."—Managing a town is as much a business as managing a shop, only more difficult. Is it likely that men who can- not manage their own shops are gomg to be successful in managing the town ï iNot likely. T L "—Of course, you think I am wrong. And then what? When this paper is wrong I take the blame without com- plaint. HE MAKES MISTAKE. He makes mistake who raves As if he suffered wrong, These rows of grass-grown graves Tell us how death is strong How joy at best is brief, How love itself grows cold. How bliss may turn to grief Before time makes us old. Life is thy gift to-day, Take it nor fume and fret, Why spurn the gift away ? Why load it with regret ? The thrush upon the thorn Sings blithely to its mate. The skylark greets the morn As if with joy elate. Then why should'st thou be sad And work with downcast eyes. If thrush and lark be glad Be thou, as they are, wise. The sunshine gilds the clouds The vault of heaven is bright, Cast out the fear that shrouds For life though brief is right. I JUST REST I cannot see he goal to which I tend, Nor do I know the way the world is planned Its ills I do not think that I could mend, So I just rest in God's almighty hand. THE ARMS OF WALES. I do not care a brass farthing whether the Arms of Wales—if anybody knows what they are—are put in the Royal Standard or not. It is not by things of this sort that Wales is to be made better, or stronger, or more popular, or more prosperous. Still, I am willing to render what help I can to the people who feel that the subject is of vital import- ance. I have given the subject some thought, as my friends will shortly see, and have decided on a course of my own. The ambiguity as to what are the arms of Wales is awkward. The Four Lions will not be satisfactory, and I reject them without farther consideration. The Red Dragon is no more the arms of Wales than it is a pleasant beast to look upon, and I reject it. The Three Frogs of Cors Fochno have claims, but they are not dignified. Do as you will, you cannot give a frog, however ancient, a dignified appearance, and the frogs must go. The Welsh Harp is so suggestive of something to drink that I am afraid the temperance people would not stand it, and a harp at best only suggests Tara's Halls. The harp not do. The Builth Tiger is a secret, mythical sort of creature and might easily be made to meet all requirements, but it lacks age. The Builth Tiger is too young a creature for admission to the Royal Standard and must be abandoned. There is, of course, the Leek, but as this is a vegetable, which the subdued natives of the Principality have been wrongly represented as being forced to eat, I do not think it can be advocated, especially as it partakes of the fault of the Three Frogs of Oors Fochno, namely, lack of dignity. How can you make a Leek look like a national emblem? Only a poet can see grandeur in a Leek, and the bulk of people, even in Wales, are not poets. The Welsh Rabbit, like the Leek and the Three Frogs, lacks dignity, but the Welsh Rabbit couchant is not to be ignored, as some of my readers may remember. But terrible as the full-grown Welsh Rabbit may be, it does not lend itself easily to representation on the Royal Standard. Besides, there might be ques- tion as to the etymology of the Welsh Rabbit. Of its abiding presence there can be no doubt whatever. Ko, the Welsh Rabbit nust go with the rest. I have no doubt it would settle the Three Frogs, the Four Lions, the Builth Tiger, and the Red Dragon if it had a fair start. At any rate, I am prepared to bet on it, but as a national emblem the Welsh Rabbit is deficient. I have now come to my very own idea. My notion is that the Arms of Wales should be the Prince of Wales's Feathers—the Three Plumes. The King will no doubt see the fitness of this suggestion, and I will write to him at once and tell him that I will take a knighthood by return of post for the sugges- tion. The members of Parliament, the Llandrindod politicians, the howling patriots, and all the rest may take the thing as settled. It will be the Three Plumes or nothing. There, that is done with. I think the notion is worth a baronetcy, but I am willing to start with a Cymmrodorion medal or an American D.D. degree. THE ABERYSTWYTH WORKMEN'S DWELLINGS. I have read the conditions of tenancy, and I can- not for the life of me make up my mind which would be the more terrible, to be a Corporation tenant or to be the Corporation Surveyor, who is to be the final judge on all questions in dis- pute, except the amount of rent due. I sec that tenants are required to keep the dwellings and gardens (front and back) in a clean and orderly condition. Who is the tenant of the Town Hall in Queen's road ? Is it the Mayor for the time being? And who is the tenant of the Plas Crug buildings? Clean and orderly! Let the inhabitants of Aberystwyth go behind the Town Hall and see what the Corporation means by clean and orderly. If they are still in doubt let them go and stand on the railway and look at the rear of the Plas Crug buildings. Clean and orderly, indeed. The Aberystwyth Corporation does not possess the slightest conception of what the words mean. By condition seven I see that tenants are not allowed to paper, paint, or drive nails into the walls or woodwork of their dwelling with- out the consent of the Borough Surveyor." I have done my level best to try and understand this condition and it seems to me that it for- bids tenants to paint nails. Who wants to paint nails ? The words are to paint or drive nails." Why tenants should want to paint nails I do not understand. One thing is clear, however, namely, that every time a tenant wants to drive a tin-tack into the floor to nail down an oilcloth or carpet, he must get the permission of the Borough Surveyor. Then the tenant is not to be allowed to keep a cat or a canary without the consent of the Borough Surveyor, unless you say that a canary is not an animal, or a fowl, or a pigeon. Of course, a cat is not a canary, but it is an animal. What is a cat when it has the canary inside ? Then what about the Corporation rats ? Is not the tenant allowed to keep out Corporation rats which swarm in that neighbourhood? Then a tenant of one of these dwellings is not to take in washing. The words are very precise on this point. The tenant is not to keep a shop, store, warehouse, or laundry of any kind." I do not know how many sorts of laundries there are, but it is quite clear that nobody must take in washing. I do not want to be a Corporation tenant, but !■ would rather be a Corporation tenant than the Borough Surveyor. THE ABERYSTWYTH BOARD OF GUARDIANS. [ am in expectation of what a friend of mine calls" rections." THE STRENGTH OF PATIENOE. Nothing has so great a resemblance to weak- ness as patience, and not seldom cowardice is mistaken for patience. To curb the eager spirit and to abstain from self assertion, and especiftliy from self vindication, is not possible to the novice in patience. To walk 8heedully down wrong ways with the wilful in ordur to be at hand to help them without reproach when they discover their mistake is one of the duties of patience grown strong. Patience is tested not in endurance—the im- patient have to endure—but in the way we endure. When patience has attained great strength, scarcely anything can reV the mind of peace as long as the mind itself remains in its- seat.. Patience is only oomplete when coupled with resignation—when that which be- falls, whether good or ill, is accepted without opposition. Many years ago something happened that threatened the overwhelming of everything that seemed to be of value. There was a way out that my mind did not commend. Patience said wait, and patience won. The years passed. The overwhelming came. Everything that seemed to be of value was lost. Nothing but bare life, and that shattered, was left. But in the wreckage patience grew strong and, perhaps, other lives gained more than my life lost, even if my life did lose. which grows less and less certain as the years cumulate. Patience has many rewards for those who have learnt its secrets. Patience does not rush with the crowd, and never seeks to forestall events. Standing in silent spaces, patience hears and sees and feels and knows much that is of inestimable worth that the impatient are utterly unconscious of. The patient live in a world of blessing that is quite their own. One of the supreme tasks of the patient is to accept with perfect resignation the bitter fruits of their own wrong-doing—the results of their own blindness—of their own lapses from Idleness is not patience. Timidity is not patience. Apathy is not patience. Dislike of turmoil is not patience but these and many other appearances may call themselves by the name of patience, but time will remove the masks, or the appearances themselves will make clear that they are only shams. Patience in its beginnings is very painful and hard to bear; but in its fruition and when grown strong is more majestic and of nobler mien than any other human attribute. If those who read these words are shut off from much that seems desirable let them cultivate patience, and life before long-even shut-off life—will begin to have unsuspected meanings. THERE A anon MANY TIMES. The other day at a London Police Court Julia Slade, who pleaded guilty to being drunk and disorderly, was told by the Magistrate that she had been there a good many times before and that he thought to send her to an inebriates home. Julia said that she did not want to go to a home and would "do something desperate rather than go. She would rather go to prison than to a home. The Court Missionary said that there were no vacancies in the inebriates home except for Roman Catholics, and so the Magistrate helplessly sent Julia to prison for a month and she said that's all right." It is pitiful enough that. Protestants who are confirmed drunkards have to be sent to prison because better provision is made in inebriate homes for Roman Catholics than for Protestants, but it is inexpressibly sad that with all our boasted civilization and education and religion poor wretches have to be sent to prison, although it is known that prison is not the right place for them. No miracle was worked when Julia Slade went to prison. She is there now, and no angels unlock the prison doors. She is a drunken charwoman—a very unpleasant person. no doubt. The prison warders probably know her and, perhaps, are kind to her. She does not know that she is one of the insoluble problems of the age—the mystery that neither preacher nor politician can explain. She is outside the pale of the churches. There is no room for her in the inebriates home because she is a Protestant The heavens are closed and silent and so she is sent to prison for a month. Very well. Now let us talk about the Real Presence and the Final Perseverance of the Saints. The Coast. G.

DOLGELLEY.

SOLDIERS AND SAILORS FAMILIES.

PORTMADOC.

MACHYNLLETH.

ABERDOVEY

! HAKLKCH.

DRAINAGE OF BORTH.

punting Jlppomtmcnts.

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