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WOMAfiW-
Entered at Second Class Postage Rates.
A LITERARY AND DOMESTIC MAGAZINE,
PUBLISHED MONTHLY.
FIFTY CENTS ) (FIVE CENTS
PER YEAR. J ( PER COPY.
Edited by KATE GARLAND.
*BBIBTBB BY TH* BIST TBLBNT.
l OMMENCEMENT season is once
< more near at hand, and as usual it
e
brings oid questions to many new persons—
that is, to many persons who have never
contended with them before and who are
therefore much in need of light, of infor
mation concerning the best solutions of
these problems. I receive many letters
asking questions as to the welfare and best
interests of boys and girls, as to what should
be done for their pleasure and their useful
ness at certain periods and under certain
conditions.
Such letters are not sent to me because I
have any superior knowledge of these all
important questions, or because the writers
thereof have greater confidence in my
opinions than they have in the opinions of
thousands of other persons. I know this,
but I do not think less of those who write
them on account of this fact; I think
rather more of them, because I know they
are persons of sense, seeking ideas out of
which they may winnow the wheat from
the chaff’.
I do not feel less careful as to the sug
gestions I may make, or the advice I may
give, because I know these are only for con
sideration and may not be accepted at all;
perhaps I am even a little more painstak
ing on this account, for I know there must
be a great amount of chaff blown away
and I am ambitious to furnish at least a
small portion—a few grains—of wheat to
be used in the mill of experience, and to
furnish a satisfactory product when it is
tested in the grinding.
With all possible care, it may prove but
chaff—may be discarded as useless. What
then? Is the effort to be deplored and the
time to be lamented as wasted? I think
not, for no honest toiling is in vain. There
must be waste in every line of life, and if
I see no good fruits grow up from my sow
ing I still know that the sowing is in itself
a commendable deed if it be carefully and
creditably done.
The sower ofttimes must scatter ten
seeds where only a single plant is expected
to grow. Must he complain because of
this; must he denounce the seed as bad be
cause the nine (or, perhaps, the ninety and
nine) must be wasted in getting one fruit
ful plant? Not so; rather should he give
thanks for all the seeds that have contrib
uted at least their numbers to bringing
him one productive stalk or vine.
Let us take, for example, our cotton,
that grand and glorious staple that is the
pride of my own fair southland and that
glories in the honor of clothing millions of
mankind. How abundant is the sowing
of these tiny seeds, that the land may
bring forth its fleecy whiteness in season
and in plenty! Hundreds of seeds are
freely given that one strong stalk may
grow, but when the hoeing and the plowing
have been done, when the blooms are fall
en and the bowls are wide-bursting from
their fullness, there are thousands of seeds
to repay the outlay of planting even when
the snowy lint has been spun and woven
for the markets of the world.
Must the farmer refuse to sow because
the waste of seeds is great? Must we, dear
friends, refuse to labor merely because so
many efforts are made in vain? Let us
prove ourselves less selfish than this, and
glory in the thought that every sincere ef
fort is an honor and must bear fruit some
time, somewhere. If we see this fruit
grow up before us as the result of our
handiwork, it is very natural that we find
it a source of joy and pride; but if we see
it not, ’tis no reason for despair—for, be
yond our sight, beyond our knowledge,
the small work, even of our hands, may
be blessing our fellow creatures.
SAW a mother traveling to a distant
state. In her arms was a fretful babe
and by her side a restless child of four or
five summers. Oh, how worn and tired
she was! And how I wished that she
might be at her destination, where rela
tives and friends would share her responsi
bilities and let her rest from the hardships
of watching and of nursing. But she was
still far from the termination of her jour
ney, and there was no help; only determi
nation to hold out and faithfully to per
form her mother-trust to the end.
The thin face and weary eyes told that
her life had been one of toil; so she was ac
customed to hardships, and would bravely
bear this new one uncomplainingly. The
plain clothing of herself and little ones
told all too well that plenty had passed
her by and left no bounteous stores at her
former abode. Perhaps this fact accounted
for her present journey to new fields,
where friends had preceded her and where
she hoped to find more liberal provision
for the necessaries and comforts of life.
But, if not, she would not find fault.
The really poor and needy seldom com
plain: they leave that to those more fortu
nate than themselves—to those who have
much, and therefore expect more. The
really hungry generally suffer in silence,
for their pride is too great to beg, and their
resignation is usually too complete to
murmur. These things, as a rule, are left
to those who are reasonably well provided
with food, and less amply supplied with
reason.
Oh, how tired that poor woman must
have been, one could only guess from her
heavy eyes; but the poor are accustomed
to their lot, and they do not expect it to
be different. Would that they did expect
more! Would that they could make up
their minds to have more; for, Hope and
Ambition can make their way through
densest clouds and quickly turn the sun
light into the darkest places. But this
tired mother, who was traveling afar, was
evidently a believer in that old saying of
which she was doubtless ignorant: “Bless
ed are they who expect nothing, for if
nothing comes they are not disappointed,
and if something turns up it will be a de
lightful surprise.”
No hope for her until the journey’s end
was reached; until the tired babies were
put to bed, and she could close those
weary eyes without the fear that they
would open on the form of her child crush
ed beneath cruel car wheels, or that her
ears would be startled by the cry of some
strange voice warning her of her baby’s
danger.
No hope! Yes there was! A gentleman
had boarded the train at a little stopping
place. Most men and women have hearts,
but oh, what a privilege to find one who
knows the use of a heart! Show me a
person who realizes what hearts and souls
are really made for, and I’ll introduce you
to a possession worth more to your real
happiness than all the gold fields of Alaska
can ever be. Such persons do live, and
occasionally—very rarely—one is found.
If you are a collector of rare treasures, let
me suggest that you look for these hearts,
and let me further suggest that they will
be much more readily found if you will
have one of these same hearts along with
you. We should be able to take one even
without calling on a friend or a neighbor to
accompany us; how many of us can do so?
I have seen a few persons with such
hearts—or, rather, with this knowledge of
the use of hearts. lam not sure that I
have not found a few more of such men
than I have of women; or is it because I
am just a little more inclined to recognize
good qualities in men than in my own sex?
I have been told that this is true, and that it
is natural, but I still hope that we do not
judge virtue by sex nor by station. At
any rate, a good, generous, happy-hearted,
genial, whole-souled man, who makes it
his business to dispense smiles and glad
ness among all who come in contact with
him, is worthy the emulation of both men
and women. To the men I would say: If
you hear of such a woman, she is worth go
ing miles to see!
Such a man as I have described boarded
our train, and I think if each railroad could
WOMAN’S WORK.
keep a few of his kind on every one of their
trains there would be “millions in it.” He
saw that poor mother, and he knew at once
what hardships she was tryiiyfijt' endure
in silence and with the
children were not furni^^MT'reasonable
share either of silence lence.
Near that poor ,)ok his seat,
and before the train its nor
mal speed after leavingion, he had
won over that restless and had
him as happy as a bird in vime. It
was harvest time for that pM'W.? I for a
large red apple not only pleased. his taste,
but seemed to put a great many happy
thoughts in his young mind. To that poor
child, used to self denial and to being de
nied, that one small gift was suggestive of
plenty and happiness.
I could see a brighter look in those dull
eyes of the mother, but it did not compare
with the look of wonder and thankfulness
that came to her face as I heard that
“Good Samaritan” say to her: “Madam,
I see you are tired and almost sick from
your long journey. I will remain on for
nearly one hundred miles, so it will require
about three hours. Let me take care of
your children and give you a chance to
rest while I am here.”
The poor woman was dumbfounded for
the instant, but as soon as she could, she
said something about the babies being
fretful. “Never mind that,” replied the
man with a heart, “I think I can manage
them for a little while, and if you can lean
back and sleep, even for a few minutes, it
will refresh you.”
Without further words he reached over
for the baby, and soon had the two little
ones laughing and playing together, de
spite their fretfulness when he first looked
upon them. I thought the mother was
too much astonished to even doze, but
worn out nature closed her eyes, and she
must have enjoyed sleep as well as rest.
But there were many in that coach who
were not asleep, for their eyes were turn
ed with surprise and admiration on a man
whose works showed that he didn’t believe
in letting the unfortunate ones of earth
wait for all their blessings to come beyond
the grave.
Perhaps it had occurred to some of the
others present, that they could help that
worn out woman in her trouble, but per
haps the all-too-apparent humble station
of the mother had something to do with
the decision of each one to let her manage
her own troubles, with the mental excuse
that they were not responsible for her
traveling without proper escort and with
out money to procure the comforts of a
sleeping berth.
A sleeper! What did that ignorant wo
man know of palace and dining cars, and
the various modern equipments for luxu
rious travel! Fortunate indeed she felt
herself, that she could procure a ticket to
her destination. Such plain supplies of
food as she could afford had been put in
her bundles before she started, and when
the question of sleep presented itself, no
doubt she had resignedly and philosophi
cally told herself that she must do as she
could—either go entirely without sleep or
take advantage of such unexpected op
portunities as might present themselves.
But, about the thoughts of those who
had seen her situation and helped her not!
lam ashamed to say that I was one of
these, and can therefore speak advisedly;
at least I imagine that my own sorry self
excuses will apply to all the others, with
very slight individual variations. I blush
to think that a woman richly gowned—
and with experience and refinement that
might have aided greatly in planning for
her own comfort—would have had many
offers of assistance before one came to this
needy traveler. I must admit that the
common dress of that mother and her two
little ones had much to do with the “hands
off” attitude of all about them: yet (great
er the reproach to those of us who were
guilty!) both the clothing and the faces of
that help-needing woman and children
were as cleanly as a long railway journey
would permit.
But, thanks be to good sense and rare
qualities of heart and nature, a man had
come among us who was superior to all
our lame explanations, and who proceeded
at once to disseminate comfort to those
three who were in need of material aid,
and to present a worthy example to many
others who were equally in need of a lesson
in humane ethics and genuine Christianity.
It was my happy privilege to see that
nobly given lesson bear its fruit, as I be
lieve every unselfish act must and will do
to a greater or less extent.
Before that noble philanthropist (what
else was he but that?) had to leave us, I
am sure he had received genuine praise
and thanks from the heart of every man
and woman in that coach. One elegant
looking old gentleman walked over to the
benefactor and said:. “Sir, you will par-
don me, but I wish to make the acquaint
ance of everyman I can, who is such a
credit to himself and to his Maker as you
have proven yourself to be.”
“You surprise me, my dear sir,” the
other modestly replied. “If you refer to
my effort to relieve this poor woman and
give her a few moments of rest, it is a
very simple service, and surely no more
than any person should give to another.”
“Ah! no more than anyone should give,
butJiow few of us there are who ever do
there things that we should do—these
things that you call so simple.”
“I find pleasure in extending a service
so easily performed, and you observe that
my outlay has been very small—only five
cents for a couple of apples to make this
little man contented.”
“And my outlay shall be small also,”
replied the elegant gentleman (they were
both elegant gentlemen, as all will agree,
but you know the one to whom I now
refer!) “but I propose to see that this wo
man and her children are provided with a
berth and all they need to assure rest and
comfortable sleep to-night: and let me say,
sir, before you leave, that the credit for
anything I may do for these people be
longs to you, and not to myself; for it is sole
ly the result of your example of thought
fulness and unselfishness.”
And so they talked as the train sped
rapidly on and the “Good Samaritan”
chuckled the little boy and tossed the
baby one to keep their happy humor un
abated. It was quite evident that these
gentlemen admired each other, and it was
equally evident that every one in the
coach admired the two. I have heard a
great deal about an atmosphere of “good
fellowship,” and about the spirit of love
and religion moving gatherings of people,
but I don’t remember that I ever saw just
such a “love feast” as seemed to reign in
the hearts there present. I believe every
man and woman of them wanted to shake
the hand of him who had caused such re
joicing in so easy and so natural a manner.
As he passed out he was the recipient of
pleasant smiles from all, and I heard more
than one man and woman say to that
stranger (?) —ah, no: such men are not
strangers, though strangely rare—“ Goo
dnight, sir,” and there were such remarks
as: “I hope to meet you again,” “Would
that there were more like you to be met,”
to which a clerical looking passenger gave
a hearty “Amen.”
There were tears in the eyes of the
grateful mother as she took the hand of
him who had wrought such a change in
her heart and in that company, and said,
with pathos in her voice: “God will bless
you, sir—and I’d do it if I could.”
What an example of the power of little
things—of one little act of kindness!
Where was ever an outlay made that gave
more magnificent returns! I will never
forget it, (would that I might never fail
to emulate it) and I am sure that no one
who witnessed it can ever forget the scene
and the impressions made. It demon
strated that the noble impulses of the
human heart only need to be aroused to
place almost anything at the disposal of
worthy ones in need. I believe every
lunch basket in that coach (and almost
anything else therein) would have been
freely tendered in compliance with the
spirit of that occasion, but the old gentle
man was true to his resolve to do honor to
the example that had been set, so to the
first suggestion of someone near he said:
“I have asked the conductor to provide a
good supper for this family at the first
stopping place, and then to give them a
sleeping berth for the remainder of their
journey.”
* • • * B
k HUS, at much greater length than I
intended, I have related one instance
T
oi sowing small seeds. Was there any
waste there? Could the results have been
half so good if the sower had been selfish
and had waited for an opportunity to ad
vance his own interests among people who
knew him and who were sufficiently prom
inent to help him to the attainment of
some desired end? His ambition was ac
complished—a human heart had been
made happier.
Let us pass over no opportunity as be
ing too small for our efforts. Let us sow
seeds bountifully, and even if they do not
always germinate before us, some will be
wafted to fertile soil, and will grow, and
bloom, and bear fruit—sometime, some
where. The seeds that I can sow I know
are small; therefore I can afford to scatter
them freely, that out of great numbers
some may prove fruitful.
Next month I will try to plant a few in
answer to the questions asked me about
the education of our boys and girls: if one
seed germinates I will be thereby reward
ed: if not one produces fruit, am I any the
worse for the sowing?
MaY, 1898.