The Golden age. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1906-1915, August 23, 1906, Page 10, Image 10

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10 THE YOUNG SOUTHERNER WHICH ARE YOU? By Ella Wheeler Wilcox. There are two kinds of people on earth to-day; Just two kinds of people, no more, I say. Not the sinner and saint, for it’s well understood, The good are half bad and the bad are half good. Not the rich and the poor, for to rate a man’s wealth, You must first know the state of his conscience and health. Not the humble and proud, for in life’s little span, Who puts on vain airs is not counted a man. Not the happy and sad, for the swift flying years Bring each man his laughter and each man his tears. No; the two kinds of people on earth I mean, Are the people who lift and the people who lean. Wherever you go, you will find the earth's masses Are always divided in just these two classes. And, oddly enough, you will find too, I ween, There’s only one lifter to twenty who lean. In which class are you? Are you easing the load Os overtaxed lifters who toil down the road? Or are you a leaner, who lets others share Your portion of labor and worry and care? The first duty of a good soldier is to leant to obey orders. It is “His not to make reply, His not to reason why.” Unquestioning, prompt obedience to the command ing officer is imperative. Sometimes the human commander makes mistakes and calamity follows, as in the case of the “six hun dred.” But the soldier in the Christian warfare knows that his Captain never blunders. He sees every perilous position and knows exactly the right move to make. Therefore, whether the order is “go for ward” or “fall back” the Christian soldier, undis mayed, should with equal confidence obey. With Correspondents. Dear Editor:—You wished the writers for the Young Southerner to tell of some of the great men and women of the different states. As I am a na tive Georgian I will tell you something of one of the great sons of my own state. But Georgia has pro duced so many great men that I hope other boys and girls will write of some of the others. Alexander Hamilton Stephens was born near Crawfordsville. He was educated in private schools and at the University of Georgia. He was a man of brilliant intellect but was physically very frail and small of stature. In spite of his small body he was brave and courageous. “His career was a wonderful illustration of the power of the mind over the body.” Mr. Stephens served in the State Legislature and also in Congress. In 1861 he was elected vice president of the Confederate States. He also engag ed in literary work. He wrote several histories and at one time established a newspaper. In 1874 he was elected to the United States Senate and he was governor of Georgia when he died in 1883. He loved country life and his home was called “Liberty Hall.” An incident is told which illustrates the small ness of Mr. Stephen’s size. He was attending a political convention as one of the principal delegates, and one evening he was lying on a bench in the porch of the hotel and sev- Conducted by Louilse Threete Hodges. oral prominent gentlemen were standing around him. The hotel keeper came out and saw the gen tlemen standing and a boy, as he supposed, lying on the bench. He hustled up and said, “Get up, my son, and let these gentlemen be seated.” Mr. Steph ens at once arose and his friends burst out laughing. When the hotel keeper found out his mistake he made many apologies. Sincerely yours, Robert Mason McLance. Dear Editor:—l am visiting my aunt and she takes the Golden Age. I enjoy reading the letters and want to see one from myself published. My auntie is very good and says she wants me to have a pleasant visit. She hasn’t any children and that is why she is so glad to have me visit her. She has a beautiful orchard and I can have all the fruit I want. Auntie and I take long walks and she tells me so many beautiful stories about people and birds and flowers and animals. We saw some lovely pigs and some sheep in a pasture. The cows and all the ani mals look so happy and contented. My auntie is going to give me a lot of flower seed and when I go home I am going to plant them and have a great many flowers next summer. I love flowers and birds. I have a canary at home and he sings a great deal. Mamma is taking care of him while I am away. I have two dear friends at home and I have written to both of them since I have been here. I hope they will see this letter, and then I think they will write to you. Auntie says I must not make my letter too long so I will close. Your true friend, Elicia Woodson. Dear Mrs. Hodges:—Will you allow me space to thank your readers for ordering my little book, “Seventeen Years in a Mattress Grave”? Quite a number sent for the book and I am truly grateful and tender my profound thanks to all. To avoid confusion I will explain that as a new edition was necessary I have changed the title to “Twenty,” instead of “Seventeen” years. Also the price is increased to 20c. I trust the book will be a help to all of my young readers as I feel such a longing to do some good before T leave this old world. It has brought me nothing hut sorrow and suffering yet if I could do anything to make it bet ter I would gladly do it. God has a work for ns all no matter how insignificant we may he. It seems to be His will for me just to “stand and wait” and I am trying to do it patiently. It is hard to lie in one position all the time as I have done for twenty years, but if mv condition serves to make others more contented with their lot in life I am not living in vain. I often think that if I cannot do anything else I can at least smile and laugh. Those who can do that should never des pair. It is hard to smile when things go wrong, but do it any way. Form the habit of smiling and laughing even over your troubles and see how quick ly they will take wings and fly away. Our editor was kind enough to allow me to speik of my first book, possibly she will permit me to men tion my other two. One is “Ideas of an Invalid,” price 30c. This one tells of my mother’s peaceful death. When she died I was left helpless and alone in the world but God has been with me in my strug gles to live an independent life. My other hook “His Mysterious Way,” is an illustrated story, price 50c. The Golden Age is a splendid paper and helps me to pass away many hours here on my hack. Pray for me. friends. I hope to meet you all in a better world. Most cordially yours, Thos. F. Lockhart. Wellington, Mo. The Golden Age for August 23, 1906. Trust in God. The fishermen of Brittany, so we are told, are wont to utter this simple prayer when they launch their boats upon the deep: “Keep me, my God; my boat is so small and Thy ocean is so wide.” How touchingly beautiful the words and the ’thought! How wise and appropriate the prayer! Might not the same petition well be uttered with the same directness by us every day of our lives? “Keep me, my God, my boat is so small”—l am so weak, so helpless, so easily carried by the winds and tossed by the waves. “And Thy ocean is so wide”—the perils are so many, the rocks are so frequent, the currents of temptation are so resistless, the tides of evil are so treacherous, the icy mountains of disaster are so threatening that except Thou, the Lord, dost keep me, I must utterly perish.—Rev. G. B. F. Hallock, D.D. The times are ripe for a general revival of Biible study in all of our churches. This is not to be ac complished by an elaborate system, or joining a widely extended society, but by actually studying the Bible ourselves, and leading others to do the same. A pastor or a Sunday school superintendent has it within his power to arouse interest in this great work in his own church or school; he would more wisely do that before he launches larger plans upon the already overburdened religious pub lic.—The Watchman. She Got the Candy.—lt was a Chicago child, not yet three years old, who, having been punished by her mother, called up her father on the telephone for sympathy. “Papa,” was the call that his steno grapher heard on answering the ring. “Why, it’s the baby,” she said to her employer. The startled man, with visions of disaster in his mind, caught the receiver and said: “What is it, baby?” “Mamma panked me,” came the reply. “What do you want me to do about it?” asked the relieved and amused parent. “Come right home and bring me a pound of candy,” said the child. Half and Half.—Smart Aleck: “On ce upon a time there were three little children. Half of them were boys an’—” Dumb Delia: “Why, Aleck! How could there be one and a half girls?” Smart Aleck: “There weren’t. The other half was boys, too.”—London Tit-Bits. The Worm at Home.—Didactic Mamma: “Now, then, Charlie, don’t you admire my new silk dress?” Charlie (with emphasis). “Yes, mamma.” Didactic Mamma: “And, Charlie, all the silk is provided for us by a poor worm.” Charlie: “Do you mean dad?”—lllustrated Bits, London. ' Give spicy blooms where flowers never grow; Give food where starving hearts fight fate’s de cree ; Give rest where tir.d hands and feet drag slow; Give sight to eyes too full of tea's to see; Give music where sweet trnmpe's never blow; Give happiness, and joy shall garment thee. —Emma C. Dowd. Study—ln Words. She (indignantly)—Stop, sir! You shall not kiss me again! How rude you are! Don’t you know any better? He (cheerily)—l haven’t kissed every girl in town, it is true, but as far as I have gone I cer tainly don’t know any better.—Watson’s Maga zine.