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The Beaver, Vol. I, No. 4, January 1921 by Company

Never mind if the bumps on your head are in the wrong place


You

stand at the outset of a New Year. Scientists think there have been living beings on this old planet for 500,000 of those time-measures we call years--but there is _only one_ you can be sure of--that's _this_ year. It's a wonder you didn't think of that without being told! Glance back over the old year's glimmering trail now fading into whatever such things fade into. It is strewed with regrets and wasted opportunities that slipped through your careless fingers! Aren't you ashamed?

What's the matter with you anyway? Don't you care much? Aren't you interested in the big proposition called "life", more than just enough to watch the procession of progressive mortals passing? You'll never keep up with them if you don't pad right along! Wouldn't you like to strike out for a real goal, eh? You have the stuff in you if you'd just shake yourself a little to rouse your rusting gifts. Don't turn over the key to the bailiff just because you weren't born under a favorable sign in the zodiac. Even if your teacup doesn't read right--pshaw! you wouldn't let a thing like that spoil your future! Never mind if the bumps on your head are in the wrong place; jump into the scuffle and you'll receive any other bumps you need before you're through. A chap is said to have advertised his brains for sale the other day--"good as new--never been used." He never served in The Hudson's Bay, that fellow. No, sir!

* * *

* *

The very air is surcharged with pleas to you to launch out and distinguish yourself. Self advancement is the theme of the age. No one can do as much for you as you can do for yourself. You're a regular "powerhouse" of possibilities if you have enough gumption to utilize them. You remember you turned down a smashing good chance to get ahead, when, for the sake of a few paltry frivolities, you sacrificed that special study course which you could have mastered in 1920. You know better than that. You saunter along through life as if you had a thousand years to put in here. Train the microscope on your freckled career and set about to remedy things. Come now, get hold of yourself! It's all beginning over again--New Year--new page--new everything! Tackle something that's so much bigger than you that it scares you! That's the way to grow accustomed to accomplishing big things. This is _your_ year! How do you know that you're going to have another as good? Make this your motto--pin it to your New Year's resolutions--"This is _My_ Year!"--and in sooth it _will_ be your year!

Miss McCheyne's name was inadvertently omitted from the formerly published list of names of those completing ten years' service.

Since the change in markets Miss Winslow, our postmistress-in-general, is worried for fear someone is going to tear in one of these days and ask what the new replacement price is on two cent postage stamps.

Someone turns in an unsigned report about the prevalence of "sparklers" getting hard on the eyes around the bureau of adjustment.

First Snowshoe Tramp

By Land Staff

Eighteen members of the Land Department staff snowshoed out to the home of Mr. B. Everitt, our genial associate editor, at East Kildonan, Saturday evening, December 18th. The party gathered at Redwood bridge and tramped north by way of Red River.


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