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THE YOUNG SOUTHERNER
The Spirit of Silence.
Oft from a suffering world do I conceal
The blasting woe and disappointment keen
Os some proud soul that refuge seeks in me.
My soothing mantle o’er the earth I .spread
And sweet repose supplants all tumult dread.
The raging storm-king yields at length to me
And crashing thunders cease to ’fright the world.
On lips that fain would speak cold, cruel words
That pierce the heart like arrows made of ice,
I lay my magic wand and speech is stayed,
In Heaven I reigned for one brief space, and saints
In wonder held their golden harps all mute
And hushed in awe their anthem of loud praise.
But yet the moaning sea yields not to me, —
Type of some sinning soul torn by remorse, —
Its restless waves resist my restful touch,
And cry alway unto the patient shore.
L. T. 11.
The publication of a magazine in the new Es
peranto language is being contemplated by the Am
erican Esperanto Association. Os course the pub
lication of such a periodical would be a help to
those interested in the study of the language as it
is proposed to have the magazine printed in both
Esperanto and English and thus the student will
find help in his translations.
Esperantists seem to be rapidly increasing in
number in the United States as well as in England,
Germany and France, and interest in the new lan
guage is steadily growing. Many of the leading
colleges, including Harvard University, it is said,
have classes for the study of Esperanto.
It may be that the time for the adoption of a
great universal language is close at hand. The
simplicity of Esperanto makes the plan for the
adoption of an international language seem feasi
ble.
For young people (and older ones, too, for that
matter) who like to learn something new that is
easily acquired, the study of Esperanto presents a
fascinating opportunity.
It might be interesting for our young people to
form clubs among themselves for the study of the
language during the coming long winter evenings.
With Correspondents.
Dear Editor:
You asked the boys and girls to tell in the Young
Southerner of some of the great men of the dif
ferent states.
I am a Kentuckian and am proud of my native
state, though I do not now live there. I will tell
you of one of her great sons, after whom I am
named. Albert Sidney Johnston was born in
Kentucky and was educated in that state and at
West Point. He was a great man and a brave sol
dier and gave up his life on the battlefield in de
fense of the Confederacy. But long before that he
had won distinction by service in the army of the
United States.
At the commencement of the Civil War he was
in command of the Pacific, but resigned his posi
tion to join the Confederate army, as his sympa
thies were with his native state.
History describes a gallant charge that General
Johnston led at the battle of Shiloh. “At this
time,” it says, “General Johnston rode forward and
called on the men to follow. In the scene his grand
figure seemed to expand to gigantic proportions;
he was mastered by excitement and in his eagerness
forgetting formal orders, he beckoned his men on
to the charge. The gallant Kentuckians were the
first to follow. Tennesseeans, Missippians and Ar
kansans caught the heroic contagion; and now the
line moved steadily forward at double-quick, and
then, with a wild rush, receiving the deadly iron
blast as it swept along the slopes, and pouring over
the batteries they scattered the heavy masses of
the infantry in the wildest confusion, This was
Conducted by Louise Three te Hodges.
the mightiest effort of force and courage of the
day. ’ ’
Later in the battle General Johnston received a
wound from which he soon bled to death.
Your true friend,
Albert Sidney Blackman.
Dear Mrs. Hodges:
I like the letters is the Young Southerner so
much and have been thinking for some time that
I would write one myself, but was afraid I might
not write anything good enough to publish.
I live in a small town and don’t have much to
write about.
I have several very good friends and we have
nice times together. We often spend the day with
each other. We were all in the same class at school
and we talk about our studies, read the same books
and take music lessons from the same teacher.
They are all good girls and we never have any
quarrels. I hope we shall all grow up to be good,
intelligent women and always be good friends.
I hope to see my letter in the paper and I think
my friends will write. Yours truly,
Agnes Belle Winthrop.
Circumstantial Evidence.
The little one chanced to sit near a plate con
taining apple parings. After a long wait, during
which no offer was made of hospitality, the child
finally blurted out, “I smell apples.”
“Yes,” responded the lady of the house, “you
smell those parings.”
“No, ma’am,” was the solemn reply of the
youngster, “I smell whole apples.”—Philadelphia
Ledger.
Peculiarity of Language.
A boy who swims may say he’s swum; but milk
that is skimmed is seldom skum, and nails you trim,
they are not trum. When.words yon speak, those
words are spoken; but a nose is tweaked and can’t
be twoken, and what you seek is never soken. If
we forget, then we’ve forgotten; but things we wet
are never wotten, and houses let cannot be lotten.
The goods one sells are always sold; but fears dis
pelled are not dispold, and what you smell is never
smoled. When juvenile, a top you spun, but did
you see a grin e’er grim, or a potato nearly skun?
—The Technical World.
Do You Have a Good Time With
Yourself?
An earnest teacher was talking with one of her
class of young women who, by reason of the cir
cumstances of her life, was much alone. The girl
was speaking of this, and the teacher looked kindly
into her eyes and asked: “Well, do you have a
good time with Helen?”
A look of comprehension dawned upon the girl’s
face. “I am afraid I don’t enjoy her company
very much,” she answered. “Helen has away of
taking me trips to the valley of humiliation.”
“Yes, but after all you must see to it that yon
have a good time with Helen,” was the gentle an
swer, and no more was said. But the thought of
this perpetual companionship with one’s self, was
a great stimulus to that young woman to make
better company of herself.
So should it be with us all. Here is an unceas
ing association, inevitable as it is unending. We
can more easily escape our shadows than our own
personalities. There are few who are not some
times alone, and many who must be much alone.
However this is, the companionship of self is con
tinuous; and if silence and solitude be dreaded be
cause of realization of the company we keen when
alone, then life is indeed a burden. Satisfied we
never should be and cannot well be; but there
should be and may he such high ideals, such earnest
L. T. H.
The Golden Age for August 16, 1906.
strivings, such measure of progress, such matter for
meditation, such cause for gratitude, that “Helen
may have a good time with Helen” in spite of all
drawbacks. And no one else on earth can secure
this but Helen herself.—Young People.
A Bright Boy.
A telegraph messenger boy, Charles F. Fielding,
living at Newport, R. 1., recently rigged up a wire
less telegraph instrument of his own, in his father’s
attic, with an old automobile coil, a cut-off electric
light lamp, some acid and a Morse sending key.
With this simple contrivance he was able to send
messages which completely interfered with the
workings of elaborate apparatus of the United
States Government, and made it impossible to send
messages from a distance at the torpedo station.
The bov attracted the attention of the command
ant of the station and has been enlisted in Govern
ment serivce as third-class electrician, which will
enable him to take a thorough course in electricity
at the Government school, while he draws $35 a
month besides ]fis board. Before that he was get
ting sl4 a month and board at home. ’Rah for the
boy!—The American Boy.
A Terror For Birds at Night.
Though everyone in Washington is acquainted
with the monument, by sight at least, few are aware
that the stately shaft causes the death of thousands
of birds every fall as they migrate southward for
the winter. The birds fly by night against the
shaft in great numbers, and are killed or stunned,
when they drop to the ground, where they are
found always on the north side of the structure.
In order to realize the mortality thus caused among
the feathered tribe, it may be stated that one man
in the city secured over four hundred dead birds in
one night.
As the birds thus secured include a number of
wild ducks and other game birds, it is not unusual
for persons to stay around the monument all night
during the migrating season. In addition to these
food-seekers there are the ornithologists from the
Smithsonian Institution, notably Messrs. Palmer
and Woods, who come to secure specimens. Then
there are the cats which gather in considerable
numbers, and whose nocturnal sight and quick
movements enable them to seize a bird almost the
instant it falls to the ground, and make off with
their prey. “The variety in species of the birds
that are found around the monument is surprising,”
observed a man who has on several occasions waited
around the monument of nights in order to secure
specimens for purposes of mounting them. “There
is, for instance, the beautiful bluebird whose color
is as delicate as that of a flower, with which most
persons in this city are totally unacquainted. This
bird, with others of fine plumage which are to be
found in our vicinity, is timid and retiring, while
the sparrow, the yellow-breasted warbler, and the
catbird are prominently seen. A considerable pro
portion of the monument’s victims are swallows,
these birds flying close together. A large number,
too, are ‘birds of passage,’ merely flying through
Washington from far-removed localities on their
way South. The birds seem to bp attracted in some
strange way by the g'hostly-looking shaft. Perhaps
they imagine it is an opening instead of a barrier,
or it may be that lighter than the sur
rounding night atmosphere tempts them. All down
the river the lighthouses offer obstacles. or
rather, attractions, to these migrating birds, many
thousands of which ore destr ova rl every season in
this way.”—The Washington Post.
It is not generally known that ca*s die in high
altitudes or else go mad. Tn Leadville, Colorado, a
ctiy built in an altitude of over ten thousand feet,
there is not a single cat. while even in Denver, at
half the height of Leadville, cats are few and those
found are highly nervous, and sensitive.