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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. The Messenger. When the wintry wood folds up her shroud Revealing spots so dear, And the snows upon the north-tipped slopes Begin to disappear— When the green springs upward to replace Earth’s carpet brown and sear— They’re bulletins: translated read, 1 ‘ Spring-time is almost here.” When the Red-bird plies his questionings 1 ‘What cheer” to me “What cheer,” When from the azure skies above ■Sweet bluebird notes I hear. And “honks” of wild geese speeding north Fall softly on my ear—■ They’re peremptory messages; They tell me spring is near. When from the distant south there rings The clarion notes and clear, And comes the wild voice, hastening On wings—“ Killdeer,” “Killdeer”— I bid farewell to winter And we part without a tear; For spring’s authentic messenger Is come and spring is here. —lsaac E. Hess, in American Ornithology. Now that spring is here we shall all soon be wish ing to get into the country—into the woods—even if only for a day. How -we shall enjoy breathing the sweet, fresh air, hearing the birds sing, gather ing wild flowers and watching the sunlight shimmer through the fresh, green foliage of the trees! If there is a stream of water flowing with ripple and murmur over a clean pebbly bed, we shall listen to its low, dreamy music, and follow on to •where the long, green ferns hang over and dip their cool fringes into the deep still pools, and the little min nows dart about among them with never a fear of angler’s hook. Skirting the woods close by perhaps we shall find an old field, the home of numerous briar patches where “Brer Rabbit” often finds a hiding place, enclosed by a zig-zag rail fence. In the fence cor ners we shall find a wreath of flowers, tall grasses and weeds (there is beauty even in weeds, if we look for it), and shall perhaps see fragile, bright winged butterflies hovering over the flowers and hear the humming of bees as they gather honey from blossom and weed. There will be beetles and ants and insects of va rious kinds whose habits will be interesting to study. There are scores of objects both of vegetable and animal life to interest and delight us if we are in touch and sympathy with nature in her humbler forms. I wish to make a request of the boys and girls who read this page. If you go into the country for a little stay or if your home is there, enjoy all you can and learn all you can then write to The Young Southerner and tell us what has interested you most and why you were interested. If you will do this lam sure you can give us many good, entertaining letters. I shall expect them. “There are people across the Atlantic watching us, and not a few of them are saying that a govern ment l of the people, for the people, and by the people’ can never last, because the people do not know’ what they -want and what they need. This will always be true of some voters; it has been true in the past of too many of ours; but a better time is coming now. People are realizing that good citizenship inspires something more than the right Conducted by Louise Threete Hodges. of the ballot. It means the knowledge behind the ballot.” Yes, but what sort of knowledge? There is knowledge that does not imply wisdom. The hope of our country lies not only in the knowledge of her citizens but also in their wisdom and integrity. Every year a large number of young men attain their majority and are allowed to cast their ballot and share in the government of their country. The character of these young men even more than their knowledge, is of vital importance to the nation’s government. The training for good citizenship must begin with our boys and girls, for the future weal or woe of our country rests with them. I say boys and girls because, w’hile the girls of today who are the women of tomorrow’ may never go to the polls and cast a ballot (I hope they never will), they may wield an influence in the affairs of government even greater than that resulting from the casting of a ballot. Let us not, therefore, be indifferent to -what the young people are reading and thinking and dream ing. They are reading and thinking and planning—- their plans may be but dreams, but dreams somel - become realities. Let us give the boys and girls our best thought and sympathy. Let us direct their dreams and am bitions, but in doing it let us enter into their spirit and feelings as much as possible, and remember that we cannot put ‘old heads on young shoulders,” and it would not be desirable to do so if we could. With Correspondents. Dear Mrs. Hodges: I was in Atlanta a few days since and while there subscribed for The Golden Age for the pur pose of reading your department. I have several grand children and I hope that they and all our girls and boys will listen to the suggestions and advice to be found on the page of the Young Southerner, for I know they cannot fail to be benefited by them. The letters of the young people are quite interest ing and many of them show that the writers are thinking and starting in life in the right direction. We would enjoy seeing more from the pen of Brother Sam P. Jones. His articles of good, origi nal thought would add much to the interest of the paper. Dr. Broughton deserves a garland of the fairest flowers and laurel in commemoration of the many hard battles he has fought for the salvation of sinners. Now, dear Editor, if you will let a grandmother in, I will perhaps give you a few hints of country life since 1862. With many good wishes for our Young South erner department, I am, (Sincerely, Grandmother. (Mrs. L. H. M.) Jackson, Ga. I am delighted to have Grandmother with us and I am sure her descriptions of country life since ’62 will be welcomed by our readers. L. T. H. Dear Editor: I want to write and tell you how much I enjoy reading the Young Southerner. I think the letters are fine and I would like to know all the writers. Perhaps some time in my life I may have the pleas ure of meeting somtf of them, but even if we never meet we may learn to know each other through our letters. I like to sew, and sweep, and dust the furniture, but I like to read also, and I am trying to be a good, intelligent woman when I grow up so that I can do some good in the world. I like to hear music and lectures when they are interesting, and I am very fond of pets, especially dogs. But I suppose I have told you enough of what I like, but I didn’t know very much else to tell you. Your friend, Annie M. Lesterlee. The Golden Age for April 26, 1906. A Royal Lesson. I have read a number of eulogies on the late King Christian IX of Denmark, all of which he richly deserved, but here is an anecdote of this no ble-hearted sovereign I have never seen in a news paper. It contains a suggestive thought for our young people, and, also, for parents and teachers. One day at the dinner table the heir apparent asked his father what was the meaning of a word he had never heard before. The word was lusing, and is the Danish equivalent for our “box on the ears.” The king asked his son where he had heard it. The boy, blushing, confessed, after a little na tural hesitation, that h"e had been out in the streets amusing himself by ringing the door bells of pri vate houses and then running away. At one door an angry porter rushed out and shouted after him that he would give him a lusing if he ever did such a thing again. When the young prince had finished his explanation his father said: “Very well. To morrow you shall go with me to that very house and beg the porter’s pardon for such rudeness.” Ac cordingly the next day the king went with his much abashed son and made him apologize. That boy, now sixty-nine years of age, has re cently succeeded to the throne of Denmark, and he and his lovely, gentle-hearted queen are as much beloved and honored by their subjects as was the prince’s royal father. Who Was Cinderella? It has been said, “not one sweet girl in a thous and knows the origin of the friend of her child hood, Cinderella.” Her real name was Rhodope, and she was a beautiful Egyptian maiden, who lived six hundred and seventy years before the Chris tian era. One day Rhodope ventured to bathe in a clear stream near her home, leaving her shoes which were very small, lying upon the bank. An eagle passing above, caught sight of the little sandals and mistaking them for a toothsome morsel, flew down and carried off one in his beak. The bird unwitting ly played the part of fairy god-mother, for flying over Memphis where the king was dispensing jus tice in an open air court, it dropped the shoe di rectly at the king’s feet. Its small size and beauty immediately attracted the royal eye, and the king determined to know the wearer of so dainty a shoe. Messengers were sent through all the kingdom in search of the foot it would fit. Rhodope was finally discovered, the shoe placed on her foot, and she was carried in triumph to Memphis where she became queen of the King Psammeticus. Louise Crossley. The oldest body of any human being now reposes in the Egyptian gallery of the British Museum. It is the body of a man who was buried in a shallow grave hollowed out of the sandstone on the west bank of the Nile in Upper Egypt. This man must have hunted along the banks of the Nile before the time of the earliest mummied king which the mu seum posesses—before the time of Menes, who was supposed to have ruled Egypt at least 5,000 B. C. There were previous to that time two prehistoric races, one the conquerors and the other the con quered, from which sprang the Egyptian race of the earliest dynasties. It is with these remote stocks that this man has to do. Considering the condition in which he was found, it is evident that he was associated with a late period of the new stone age of Egypt. He was buried in a character istic neolithic grave, with his neolithic pots and in struments of flint about him. There is, of course, no inscription of any kind on the pots, knives, or grave, all having been made long before the inven tion of any written language. —The American Antiquarian. 11