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buildings situated on a beautiful campus reached
by well-paved roads and walks. There are three
dormitories, a recitation hall, a hospital, a dairy,
a work-shop, a store-house, a back-house, a steam
laundry, and “the cabin,” a rustic structure, built
of pine logs in which Miss Berry and the lady
teachers live. Instead of ten students he would
see more than a hundred manly young men who
are going about their daily tasks with an air of
satisfaction and contentment that could be found
scarcely anywhere else. All this has been accom
plished within four years.
Closely allied with Miss Berry in this work are
Mr. Albert McClain, of New Jersey, and Miss Eliza
beth Brewster, of Ohio. Mr. McClain came there
in the fall of 1902, after the school had been in
progress several months, and has ever since de
voted his splendid training and energies unsparing
ly to the work. Miss Brewster, a graduate of Le
land Stanford, Jr. University, was associated with
Miss Berry in her Sunday School work before the
school was organized, and since its incipiency has
been a great factor in its rapid advancement. Her
experience in the school room, her broad scholar
ship, and her rare culture and intellectual attain
ments have contributed no little to the literary de
partment.
I would not convey the impression that it is mere
ly an industrial school, and that the study of books
takes a secondary place in the curriculum. The
two hours of work a student does does not retard
his progress in his studies. The course of study
is equal to that of any high school, and its diploma
admits into the University of Georgia without an
examination. Besides a student may, if he wishes,
pursue a course of music and elocution.
Ample opportunity is given for development
along other literary lines. There are two literary
societies which hold meetings once a week and are
well attended. Also the boys publish a school pa
per once a month.
The charges are only SSO per school year. This
includes board, laundry and fees. As this amount
is only one-half what it costs to maintain a pupil,
the management is compelled to raise the remain
der.
Miss Berry has been forced to refuse more than
a hundred and fifty boys this year because of lack
of room, and financial aid is needed to provide
more accommodations as well as for current ex
penses.
Big Children and Little Grown Folks.
By Amelia Arnold Heidt.
Whittier in his “Barefoot Boy,” has paid such
a beautiful tribute to the fraternity of which this
little fellow seems to be, in school-boy parlance,
“a head leader” that little remains to be said.
However boys, barefoot and otherwise, are my
pet hobby, and this one, a real boy in real life, set
me to thinking, and this is what I thought:
It is a hackneyed saying, but true, that most
people do not think enough about their boys. I
once heard a splendid woman, mother of six girls
and a boy, say, “I don’t know what to do with
my boy,” and, of course, the boy did not know what
to do with himself. His presence in the family
circle reminded me of some misfit article brought
home from a bargain counter, useful, if needed,
but not really wanted. Os course Eis mother loved
him, but the trouble was, she did not study him.
She knew every turn of her girls’ natures; the boy’s
with its wondrous possibilities was a sealed book.
I am so glad that “boys will be boys,” and there
is no disputing the fact, they “will be” from the
time they can thrust their hands in the pockets of
their first check apron, right on to the end of the
chapter.
I have in mind one little fellow, seated in his
high chair at a dinner table where I was a guest.
His plate was helped. Among other things on it
were snap beans. They were delightful and seemed
especially so to the boy, for in a very little while,
he called for more. They were given with the admo
nition from his mother, “Johnnie, eat bread with
them,” but almost before the mother could turn
The Golden Age for May 17, 1906.
around, he was clamoring for still more beans. They
were denied, of course, because his mother said, he
did not eat bread with them. Johnnie began whim
pering, “I didn’t eat bread wif ’em ’cause ’ey
tas ’e so good to me.”
Now Johnnie certainly “knew beans,” but it
took the afternoon of pain, followed by a dose of
medicine, to convince him that mother knew best,
and I thought, “little man, that’s just the trouble
with big folks, too. We wish to pick from the plate
our Heavenly Father has handed us, only the things
which please us. Those that tickle our palatelS'
most we refuse to eat with the bread of modera
tion, and it takes the night time of suffering to show
us the folly of too much beans.
Then there’s the freckle-face boy. Freckles seem
peculiarly a boy’s heritage, and he who has thei
is usually the fellow who gets the most fun out; of
every sixty-one minutes he can crowd into an hour.
By and by, when his trousers and his shoes meet
and he begins to find some pleasure in-doors (if
there’s a girl around), he will begin to worry about
the freckles, but boys don’t do it. They don’t
amount to a row of pins. One of the grandest men
I know is very freckled, but the little woman who
loves him loves every one of them—even the great
brown ones, splotched about on his hands, for they
are tokens of the winds that fanned and the sun
that kissed him as he drove the cows to pasture
and followed the plow up and down the long fur
rows on his father’s farm, bringing him the won
drous strength of mind and body that has fitted
him for his life’s work.
It was a freckled face, tied tongued boy of six
who preached me this sermon: After kissing his
mother good night, he stood a moment, then said,
“me’s shore goin’ a be good to-morrow; me tump
ed me toe two times dis ebenin’.”
“Did it hurt you,” I ask. The reply was “not
much, but you know the Bad Man is all time tryin’
to get folks on ’is pitchfork. If he wants ’em bad
de en’ of de fork sticks thru’ de groun’ and if you
’tump your toe, you can look out, for he’s mos’
got you.”
Where in the name of sense the child got the idea,
I do not know, but what a lesson. It is human to
stumble, but when stumbling becomes habitual, it
means that the adversary of our souls is reaching
up for us, and we need to get on higher ground./
One day, seated by an open window, I became
interested in the conversation of some small boys,
playing under a tree near by. One of them had
just recovered from measles, and they were compar
ing notes as to the length,, severity, etc., of their
respective attacks of his malady. “It took me
mos’ a year to get over measles,” said one, boast
ingly. “Bill,” said his companion, laying down
his little hammer, and speaking slowly, 1 ‘When,
folks die, they never gets over it.” The wisdom
of Solomon, the prophecy of Job shone in his great
black eyes. His companions answered nothing, and
the smile died on my lips.
Oh, these boys! Queer bundles of wisdom and
precocity, badness and sweetness. Let us study
them. They will interest us and, in turn, teach us
many things. Soon must their hands hold the
reigns of government and upon their shoulders rest
the pillar of state. Train them that they may be
strong. Love them that they may be tender and
worthy of their trusts, for, for us, the night soon
cometh, and when “folks die they never get over
it.”
Only a little barefoot boy,
Trudging down the street,
A tattered hat, a battered toy,
And clothing old, but neat.
Pause e’er you laugh at him,
Think e’er you chaff at him,
You know not what future before him lies;
You know not how high may be his emprise
In years to come, how great or wise.
Oh, greet him kindly, his mother’s joy,
This man of the future, the barefoot boy.
While our hearts are pure, our lives are happy
and our peace is sure.—Wm. Winter.
News of the Week.
Elizabeth Gates. 114 years of age, said to be the
oldest person in the State, is dead at Brunswick,
Ga.
More trouble is feared in Santo Domingo. A
plot to kill President Caceres has been discovered
and a number of arrests made.
Senor Quesada, the Cuban minister, totally dis
credits the story from Florida that a revolutionary
movement has made headway in eastern Cuba.
August Braun, formerly a resident of Cincinnati,
0., on May 7, ascended to the second landing of
the Eiffel Tower and jumped off and was killed.
Professor Israel C. Russell, head of the geology
department of the University of Michigan, is dead
at Ann Arbor. Professor Russell was widely
known as a scientist.
A Presbyterian book of common prayer has just
been published with the authority of the general
assembly of his church. In many points it resem
bles the Episcopal prayer book.
An attempt was made to assassinate Vice Admiral
Doubasoff, governor general of Moscow, and an aid
was injured, a sentry killed, and the revolutionist
would-be assassin was blown to pieces.
With appropriate ceremonies, the Rockefeller In
stitute for medical research was opened Friday,
11th. Mr. Rockefeller has given $3,000,000 to the
building and equipment of the institution.
In an open boat, built of oak, hickory and cedar,
with no cabin, Captain William H. Gillen, of Guys
borough county, N. S., with one companion, proposes
to row and sail from New York around Cape Horn
to San Francisco.
In spite of the fact that President Roosevelt has
refused to accept aid for the San Francisco suffer
ers from any but Americans, the offer of SIOO,OOO
by the Canadian government will be accepted by the
local relief authorities.
A stone evidently intended for King Alfonso, was
thrown from the roadside as the king’s automo
bile was returning to the palace. The stone missed
the king and struck the Princess iTaiia Teresa,
his sister. 'She was not seriously hurt.
The Panama Canal Company had 27,000 employ
ees on its rolls during the month of April. Five
thousand of these were paid in gold, and 22,000 in
silver. The number of men at work exceds by
9,000 the greatest number the French company ever
had in its employ.
In addition to the accusation against Maxim Gor
ky, of engaging in a political propaganda, the
procurator has charged him with participation in
the December uprising at Moscow, and it is rumor
ed that his extradition from the United States will
be asked for.
The death is announced of Herr Hans Fromm,
a hotel proprietor of Willenberg, East Prussia,
who enjoyed the reputation of being the heaviest
man in Europe. Herr Fromm turned the scale at
nearly 600 pounds. He stood five feet eight and a
half inches in his socks, and measured 72 inches
across the chest by 79 inches around the waist.
Consumption, due to illness contracted in the Phil
ippines, caused the death in St. Joseph’s hospital
for consumptives of Nicholas D. Moreland, who
laid claim to the distinction of having fired the
first shot in the engagement of Admiral Dewey’s
famous squadron in Manilla Bay which ended in the
destruction of Admiral Montejo’s Spanish fleet.