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10 THE YOUNG SOUTHERNER All communications and contributions intended for this department should be addressed to Mrs. Louise T. Hodges, 83 East Avenue, Atlanta, Ga. It isn’t yours to conquer And it isn’t yours to fail, It’s yours alone to battle When foes the right assail. Quick to the ranks then rally, The captain gives command, So, bravely, forward, forward With sword in the fighting hand. If duty is done, what matter Though in the charge you fall, God is watching the warfare And justly rewardeth all. —L. T. H. It has been said that the twentieth century, above all preceding ones, is to be characterized by co-oper ation. It is to be a time when more than ever be fore it will be true that “no man liveth to him self,” and when the injunction “look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others,” will be observed in the true spirit of altruism. Co-operation and organization of workers with community of interests naturally means greater achievements. Certainly we who live in this pres ent time have greater opportunity for learning and doing than did those who lived in any previous century, and our responsibility is proportionally greater. This is an inspiring thought, and should lead us to faithfully and intelligently do our part in making this good twentieth century one of love, unselfishness, righteous living, and in bringing about the grand realizations of all those things that go to the making of a truly golden age. “It makes but little difference where we serve and when we serve. The transcendent question is in how we serve.” —John Temple Graves. With Correspondents. Dear Editor: Most of the letters that I have read in the Young Southerner have been from boys and girls in the country. I have some dear friends who live in the country, and I like to visit them in the summer, but I don’t think I would like to make my home there. I like the city. I suppose it is because I have always lived in one. My home used to be in Chattanooga, and while I lived there I liked to go up on the mountain and view the fine scenery. It certainly is grand. You can see mountain ranges covered by the blue haze of distance, and near by the winding course of the Tennessee river through the broad valleys with fields in cultivation and farm houses scattered about. It was a very peaceful looking scene when I saw it, but just to think there was once a great battle fought there! There are a great many historical incidents con nected with Chattanooga that make it a very inter esting place. Can any of the boys and girls tell how St. Elmo, one of the suburbs of Chattanooga got its name? I wanted to ask some other questions, but am afraid my letter will be too long, so will wait till another time Sincerely yours, A City Girl. Dear Editor: I have been greatly interested in the Young Southerner, particularly in the letters from the young reople. I like to see the boys and girls show their r”'preciation of this department by writing such r’"e letters, and I think more of the parents and teachers should also manifest their interest. Conducted by Louise Threete Hodges. I would like to make a suggestion to the boys and girls by which I think they could make their letters very interesting. Let each one select some special subject, for instance, some incident in his tory, some growing industry, some great discovery, or one of many subjects that might come to mind, and tell all they know about it. In this way we ( can have variety, which is the spice of life, and also interesting information. I have one little daughter who is not yet able to write for the Young Southerner, but I hope some day to see a letter from her. I have several young cousins and a niece and nephew from whom I would like very much to see letters in The Golden Age. With the sincerest good wishes, I am Cordially yours, A Young Mother. Dear Young Southerner: Hurrah for the girls and boys that write to the Young Southerner! My teacher says that the young people who appreciate opportunities that they have are the ones who will be the great men and women of the future. I hope so, and I want to be one of them. I expect to be a doctor. I think it will be splen did to cure people when they are sick, and it is a good way to make money, too. My brother, who is younger than I am, says he is going to be a mer chant, and my sister, who is only eleven, says she wants to be a trained nurse. If she does she can nurse my patients. I went to a hospital not long ago to see a friend who was sick. Everything looked so clean and nice. I have a cousin living in Augusta. I hope he will see this letter and write one to The Golden Age. Your true friend, Oscar S. Whiteberry. Artificial Eyes. As early as 500 B. C., artificial eyes were made by the priests of Rome and Egypt, who practiced as physicians and surgeons. Their methods of eye making are thus described: On a short strip of flesh-tinted linen, two and a quarter by one and a quarter inches, the flat side of a piece of earthenware, modeled life-sized and painted to represent the human eye and eyelids are cemented. This linen, coated on the other side with some adhesive substance, was placed over the eye-hole and pressed down. In brief, the artificial eye was worn outside the socket, and though a clumsy substitute, was probably appreciated by the Romans and Egyptians. In the ruins of Pompeii, destroyed in 79 A. D., an eye of this description was discovered. Not until the sixteenth century do we hear of eyes at all like those of to-day—that is, worn in side the socket. A French surgeon, one Ambroise Pare, invented three artificial eyes. One consisted of an oval plate covered with soft leather, on which an eye was painted. It was attached to the head by a strong steel band. It could have been neither sightly nor comfortable. The second device, and the first known in history to be worn inside the socket, consisted of a hollow globe of gold deftly enameled. The third eye devised by this ingenious gentleman was a shell pattern eye, much like those in use to-day, except that it was of gold and en amel. Pare’s inventions were followed by eyes of paint ed porcelain, and covered with pearl white, which became very popular. They were succeeded by eyes of glass, which soon took the place of all others, and command popular favor to this day. Glass eyes were invented about the year 1579, ami were, crude productions of inferior workman ship, the iris and pupil being hand painted in a far from lifelike manner. The Golden Age for May 3, 1906. Listeners Never Hear Any Good of Themselves. Three little crickets, sleek and black, Whose eyes with mischief glistened, Climbed up on one another’s back And at a keyhole listened. The topmost one cried out, “Oho! I hear two people speaking! I can’t quite see them yet, and so— I’ll just continue peeking.” Soon Dot and Grandma he could sec— » Tea party they were playing; And as he listened closely, he Distinctly heard Dot saying: “This pretty little table here Will do to spread the treat on; And I -will get a cricket, dear, For you to put your feet on. ’ ’ The cricket tumbled down with fright; “Run for your life, my brothers! Fly, fly!” He scudded out of sight; And so did both the others. Carolyn Wells, in St. Nicholas. “No doubt a world in which matter never got out of place and became dirt; in which iron had no flaws and wood no cracks; in which gardens had no weeds and food grew ready cooked; in which clothes never wore out, and washing was as easy as the advertisements describe it; in which the right word was not hard to find, and rules had no excep tions; and things never went wrong, would be a much easier w r orld to live in. But for purposes of training and development it would be worth noth ing at all. It is the resistance that puts us on our mettle; it is the conquest of the reluctant stuff that educates the worker. I wish you enough diffi culties to keep you well and make you strong and skillful.” —Henry Van Dyke, in Harper’s Magazine. With the Seawind. Hoarse and low in the old pine tree Whispers the Sea-Wind, soft to me: “Billow and wave, breaker and foam, Ever from whence I come. Here afar from the stormy deep, Quietly let me fall asleep.” When you lie on your gorgeous bed, Daisy decked and violet spread, Jasmine tasselled, with vine festoons, Where the brooklet croons, Bask in the tender sunshine-streams; Float on the ebb and flow of dreams. Dear old Wind, we love the pine Far away from the jostled brine; Love the nook where flowers spread Perfume round your bed. Here, when storms and turmoils close, 'Ever is comfort, peace, repose. —R. I. L. A One-Sided View. When Maggie, a recent arrival from over the sea, had finished cleaning the windows, her mistress was amazed to discover that they had been washed upon the inside only. She inquired the reason for this half-completed task, thinking that, perhaps, the girl was afraid to sit outside the windows. Mag gie’s reply was delivered with line concern: “I claned ’em inside so’s we could look out, mum, but I lift the dirt on the outside so the people couldn’t