Dear Ann Landers,


Dear Readers,
Remember the poem that began, "If you think you are beaten, you are. If you think you dare not, you don't. If you like to win but think you can't, it's almost a cinch you won't." I asked if anyone knew the author. I wanted to give him (or her) credit. The response was staggering-and strange. Here's a sampling: From High Bluff, Manitoba, Canada: My uncle, A. W. Shaw, wrote the poem. He was an amateur philosopher but much better than many who get paid. Richmond, Va.: My father, S. W. McGill, wrote it. He was too mod-est to claim credit. Panama: I wrote that poem when I was in high school. It was quite a shock to see it in your column after all these years. Detroit: Any fool knows that poem was written by Edgar Guest. Treasure Island, Fla.: That poem you inquired about was the work of Napoleon Hill. People steal from him all the time. Racine, Wis.: The unsung hero is C. W. Longenecker. It's high time the world knew. Dallas: The author you should praise is Paul (Bear) Bryant, he was a great football coach at the University of Alabama. I knew him well. Fullerton, Calif.: That poem was written by Vince Lombardi, you dummy. How come you didn't go look it up? Crestwood, 111.: A magazine editor named Wesley Potlook wrote "If You Think You Can," which is the correct title, not "It's All in a State of Mind." Rabbi Sidney Greenberg, Dresher, Pa.: Walter D. Wintle is the au-thor of the poem "It's All in a State of Mind." At least 500 others also credited Walter D. Wintle, and I decided he was probably the real author. Well, imagine my surprise when, years later,; 1 found out that the author was really C. W. Longenecker,; and the title of the poem was "The Victor. " Here's the poem in its entirety: The Victor C. W. Longenecker If you think you are beaten, you are. If you think you dare not, you don't. If you like to win but think you can't, It's almost a cinch you won't. If you think you'll lose, you're lost. For out in the world we find Success begins with a fellow's will. It's all in the state of mind. If you think you are outclassed, you are. You've got to think high to rise. You've got to be sure of yourself before You can ever win a prize. Life's battles don't always go To the stronger or faster man. But soon or later, the man who wins Is the man who thinks he can. Dear Ann: I was surprised and flattered to discover my poem at the end of your column in today's Washington Post. It was sent in by Sonja Lawson. Does this mean that Sonja clipped it and sent it in, or did she say that she wrote it? If it is the latter, I fear she is mistaken, because I wrote it in 1985 and it was published in Guide on August 16, 1986. -Marlen E. Neumann Dear Marlen: "Sent" means she sent it in. Sonja didn't say she wrote it. Sorry it was unclear. I regret the misunderstanding and am pleased to set the record straight. Here's your "gem" again: Be careful of the words you speak. Make them soft and sweet. You never know from day to day Which ones you'll have to eat. Are you still with me? Get a load of what piled up on my desk that week: From Omaha: Maybe Marlen Neumann managed to get that little poem about keeping words "soft and sweet" published in Guide in 1986, but she certainly did not write it. My mother has been reciting those lines since I was a child, and I'm in my 40s now. Mom said she learned them from her mother when she was growing up in Scotland. Strange, eh? --J. Barnes Chanute, Kan.: Marlen Neumann the author of that little poem? I seriously doubt it. I first remember seeing it as a pressed cardboard motto, hanging on the iron headboard of my mother's bed. That was at least 65 years ago. I later discovered it in another part of the coun-try, framed and hanging in my dentist's waiting room. -R. M. Smith Portland, Ore.: In September 1967,1 stopped in a restaurant in On-tario, Ore., and there on the wall was the framed poem about "soft and sweet" words. I thought they said a great deal and copied them in my notebook. How then could that woman possibly have written them in 1985??? -R. E. Knapp Tallahassee, Fla.: I am 57 years old. My mother was a school teacher who was always quoting little poems to make a philosophical point. One of her favorites was the one about keeping words soft and sweet because one day you may have to eat them. I transcribed it in the fam-ily Bible in about 1945, which was 40 years before Marlen Neumann said she wrote it. -M. Edwards Hillsboro, Ore.: My father, Andrew Haugen, carried a small note-book in which he copied bits of wisdom that appealed to him. He gave me that book in 1978, before he passed away at age 85.1 am enclosing a photocopy of the page on which my father transcribed the poem about "sweet words." -V. Lacy Houston: My great-grandmother, the daughter of a Cherokee In-dian chief, died in Texas in 1922 at age 84. She taught me that poem when I was a toddler about 1915. To Marlen Neumann, who claimed authorship of a poem she did not write: Please take note of the old adage, "Many things are opened by mistake, but none so often as the mouth." -L. D. Peterson Gossip-Remember Me? My name is Gossip. I have no respect for justice. I maim without killing. I break hearts and ruin lives. I am cunning and malicious and gather strength with age. The more I am quoted, the more I am believed. I flourish at every level of society. My victims are helpless. They cannot protect themselves against me because I have no name and no face. To track me down is impossible. The harder you try, the more elusive I become. I am nobody's friend. Once I tarnish a reputation, it is never the same. I topple governments and wreck marriages. I make innocent people cry in their pillows. My name is Gossip. Cross the Street Ola Byrd Mrs. A called Mrs. B on the telephone. "Hello, Mrs. B," said Mrs. A. "How are you today?" Mrs. B replied, "I'm doing fine, how about you?" "Well, Mr. A and I are thinking of going to Hawaii. We realize that we've been far too busy with our careers and haven't spent much time together." Mrs. B said, "That sounds great. You both deserve a vaca-tion." They chatted for a few minutes, and Mrs. B invited Mrs. A to come across the street for a cup of coffee. When Mrs. A returned home, Mrs. B got on the phone and called Mrs. C. The conversation went like this: "Don't breathe a word of this, but Mr. and Mrs. A are having problems. Mrs. A has decided to leave Mr. A." Mrs. C replied, "No kidding? Is she going home to her mother?" "No," said Mrs. B. "She told me that she is moving to-let me think for a minute-it starts with an H." "Is it Holland?" asked Mrs. C. "Yes," said Mrs. B. "She's moving to Holland." Mrs. C called Mrs. D and told her that Mr. and Mrs. A were getting a divorce and Mrs. A was moving to Hong Kong. Mrs. D told Mrs. E that Mr. A hadn't paid enough attention to his business and things got bad so Mrs. A was leaving him to live in Havana. Well, this went on and on until the story got to Mrs. Q. She called up Mrs. A and repeated her version. Mrs. A was more amused than angry. Her only response was "Well, it appears that the women in this town have taken me around the world when all I did was cross the street!" Golden Rules for Living Miriam Hamilton Keare If you open it, close it. If you turn it on, turn it off. If you unlock it, lock it up. If you break it, admit it. If you can't fix it, call in someone who can. If you borrow it, return it. If you value it, take care of it. If you make a mess, clean it up. If you move it, put it back. If it belongs to someone else, get permission to use it. If you don't know how to operate it, leave it alone. If it's none of your business, don't ask questions.