THE BOYS OF THE PRESS Quiet, keen makers of history, these; Steel at their labor, wax nt their ease Helping tho world to roll round to tho light Out of the shadow of chttos and night; Makers of statesmen and builders of truth, Qleamed with the glory and freshness fresh-ness of youth; Bringing the doers of evil to feel Tho force of the pen and tno llume of its steel. Ho! for the boys of the press whoso task Is always to render and seldom to ask; Watchmen on towers of the timo who behold' The ultimate evils that creep in the fold; Guarding tbe public, with thunder of song From fangs of the wicked and tricks of tho wrong; Tireless and sleepless, and climbing to life With smiles and with choers throuch tho shadow and strife. Earnest and patient and true to their trust, Forvrnl to battlo when swords leap from rust; First in calamity, tolling tno land, Tho need for tho help of Its heart and Us hand; Modest, ilno fellows and real men at heart, Conscious of duty, and doing their part; Hall to them, peace to them honor to them.