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THE YOUNG SOUTHERNER All communications and contributions intended for this department should be addressed to Mrs. Louise T. Hodges, 83 East Avenue, Atlanta, Ga. Opaline sheen in the dew-drops, Breath of the rose on the breeze Bird’s wings catching the sunlight Or fading in dew-laden trees. The world all aglow with new life, Winds laden with spice and balm, The rustle of growth in the corn fields, That calls for praise giving psalm. God in the breeze and the sun-glow God in the cloud and the dew, Love in the strong, pulsing forces That thiilleth to life anew. —L. T. H. As we pass along the highway of life let us keep in mind the fact that others will come after. Let us try to make the way a little smoother for them. Let us, if possible, remove the stones that we have stumbled over, and plant a flower wherever we may to gladden the hearts of later comers. It is both our duty and pleasure to lend a helping hand to those in need of it who journey with us, but let us not forget that we owe a duty also to these who follow after. With Correspondents. I am sure that our readers will be pleased to see so many letters this week—and such good letters. Boys and girls, your letters are read with interest and pleasure, not only by other young persons, but by “grown-ups” as well, and I am glad that you take the pains to write so well. The boys seem determined that the girls shall not get ahead of them, but it is a good-natured, friendly rivalry and I am glad to see it. Now, girls, take care that the boys don’t get “ahead” of you. I call attention of the young people, especially, to Professor Bridge’s letter. He is principal of Hillside School at Arlington, and is deeply interest ed in our department. Dear Mrs. Hodges: Having read recently so many sensible letters from the boys and girls from over the country, 1 have become much interested in “The Young Southerner.” Let me say to the boys and girls who write for or read the Young Southerner, your life is what you make it, for the good or for the bad. Your beginning is good, your future is bright. I am a teacher of Berrien county, now in Early, and have several boys and girls who would enjoy reading many more letters from their friends. Remember, dear readers, that you are to be the men and women of to-morrow, on whom important duties will rest. If not upheld, they will fall, and “great will be the fall thereof.” May God bless the dear boys and girls who are fronting the foe through this department. With much interest and desire for your success, I am, eVery truly yours, Webster E. Bridges. Arlington, Ga. Dear Editor: I appreciate the page the Golden Age has given to the Young Southerner very much, and enjoy read ing the letters from the boys and girls. I thought I would let you hear from a girl up in the North Georgia hills. My home is near Atlanta, but I am paying with my grandparents at present, Conducted by Louise Threete Hodges. My grandfather is an old soldier. He tells us many thrilling stories of the boys in gray. He is planning to go to the old soldier’s reunion at New Orleans, the last of this month. I walk three miles to school, and enjoy it very much. Well, if we do live in the “sticks,” we have almost every convenience that the city affords: free delivery mail route, ’phones, and are soon to have electric lights. These, together with country privileges and freedom, make the country a pleasant place to live. I agree with Ralph Ray that some of the country girls are very pretty, but far too modest and inde pendent to let a boy kiss them. I wonder if he is one of those boys? Yours truly, Pauline DeVore. Alpharetta, Ga., Route 5. Dear Editor: A friend of mine sent me two copies of the Golden Age, and I enjoyed reading them so much. I think the Young Southerner department is fine. Perhaps you would like to have a letter from a Western girl. I live not far from the Canadian river. At some places it is nearly half a mile wide, and the bed of it is white sand, and sometimes the sand is nearly all dry. You may think that is a funny river. When there has not been any rain for a long time the water in the river dries up until there is just a narrow little stream, and the rest of the river bed is dry. When heavy rains come, the river will sometimes rise four or five feet all at once, and comes rushing down like a torrent. In some places there is quick sand and people and cattle may sink in it if they stop. A good deal of the land out here is owned by Indians, but they don’t like to work much. I have not always lived here, and I thought the Indians and the dugouts and many other things were very strange when first I saw them. As I am not a subscriber to the Golden Age, you may not publish my letter, but I hope you will, and I hope my friends will send me another copy. Your true friend, “A Western Girl.” Allen, Ind. Ter. Dear Editor: I take much pleasure in writing a letter to the Golden Age. I will write on the subject of “Edu cation.” Education is, to my mind, food to the body. A person with an education can make himself useful in many ways, and can also make more money than an ignorant one. A man with an education is better off than the one who owns thousands without an education. For if the person who owns much and knows nothing should lose what he has, he would not know how to make much again. Boys and girls certainly have good chances to get an education now, and we should make good use of our time, so as to make good men and women. The men who have done the most for our country were men of good learning. A boy can make what he wishes of himself if he is the right kind. I believe that in the future, persons knowing noth ing will be called “blockheads,” a name which they will deserve. Closing with best wishes to all, I am, Yours truly, Henry Grady L. Ellington. Oxford, Ga. Dear Editor: I have written one time before, and I am going to try again, Dear Editor: The Golden Age for April 19, 1906. I like to read the other boys’ and girls’ letters. I don’t like the idea of letting the girls get ahead of the boys. I think I like Bob White’s letter best of all. I would like for the boys and girls that write to the Young Southerner to write to me at Cordele, Ga. My papa is interested in the paper, and wants me to get a lot of subscribers for it. He reads it when he comes home at night, if it has come. I like the idea of selecting a motto to remember when we go to do wrong, and do as Jesus did. He said, “Get thee behind me Satan.” I have two mottoes: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” and “Honor thy father and thy mother.” Yours sincerely, Cordele, Ga. Jas. B. Kelly. The Kingfisher. Few boys who spend part of the spring of the year in the forest and along the banks of streams, fail to become acquainted with the kingfisher. He is a royal bird and loves a royal sport. Along the banks of April streams is heard his strange and rattling cry rising above the noise of the waters. When summer time comes his cry is still heard. He flies by and then suddenly stops and hovers lightly over a pool beneath. He plunges for the fish that he sees in the waters and comes up with his noonday meal. As a bird he has little grace of form, but a beautiful purple, white and cinna mon-brown plumage. One of the many poets of the world has written of the kingfisher as he saw him. His name is Mau rice Thompson, and of the bird he says: “His place is the brake Where the rushes shine and shake; His music is the murmur of the stream, And that leaf rustle where the lilies dream. “Such life as his would be A more than heaven to me; All song, all bloom, all happy weather, All joys bound in a sheath together.” The kingfisher, in one form or another of his family, is found in nearly every part of the world. When the Northland is covered with snow, and the streams are ice, he goes as far South as the Straits of Magellan. In fact, the kingfisher seen in Wis consin, Illinois and Minnesota in April and May, the following December has been met with in Ar gentina and above the small streams in Chili. He does not belong to the Western continent alone. He is found in English fields, through the lowlands of Scotland, in central Germany and in southern Spain. Students of birds have often made the claim that in the early history of the world the kingfisher was a very large bird, but that changes in climate and his food supply gradually reduced his size. The exact laws that produced these changes we do not know. The kingfisher is one of the earliest birds known to man, and lived upon ocean fish in its early devel opment. Gradually, as the amount of land increas ed and inland streams appeared, it became a land bird, and, possibly because it was easier to live there than upon the sea, diminished in strength of wing and size. Little Johnny had not yet learned the use of words —or had he, as applied to those most maligned worthies, second mothers? His friend Tommy was about to have a new mamma. “Auntie,” asked Johnny, “is Tommy going to hnye $ qqlck-step mother?”