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THE YOUNG SOUTHERNER
So swift is time, dear heart,
So soon we play our part,
Then pass away.
A smile, a sigh, a tear,
Hope and a little fear
In life’s brief day.
A kiss, a thrill divine
As loving hearts entwine—
Love’s ecstasy!
O grasp each passing joy,
Though mixed with grief’s alloy,
As moments flee. L. T. 11.
As the evening shadows fall and you take a little
time for quiet meditation, look back over the day
that is passing and ask yourself what you have done
since the dawn to make any life a little brighter;
any heart a little happier; any burden a little light
er.
Have you given or withheld the word of encour
agement; the smile of appreciation; the silent pray
er for a blessing on the friend, acquaintance or
stranger whom you have passed on the street?
Each of these is a little thing in itself, but the
fate of a life might rest on any one of them.
With Correspondents.
Dear Editor':
I have just returned home after a delightful va
cation spent in the mountains. I am right glad to
be home again, for no matter how much you enjoy
a visit, there’s no place like home.
School will open soon and I am beginning to
think about my studies. I expect to study harder
this year than I have ever before and I want to take
a high stand in my classes. My uncle, whom I
visited, promised that if I would lead in my classes
this year, he would give me a gold watch. Os course
I am anxious to have the watch and if I win it I
shall have a double benefit—the watch and the
pleasure of being at the head of my classes.
I wonder how many of your young correspondents
have resolved to study harder this year than ever
before. Your sincere friend,
Alma Margaret Lee.
Dear Editor:
I notice that some of the children have told you
about their pet dogs. I wish to tell you about one
my brother owns. It is half shepherd and half col
lie, and is very affectionate and intelligent. He has
been very watchful and barks a good deal. My
brother has recently moved to another town and as
it was not convenient for him to take the dog along
he was left behind. The dog was very fond of
ray brother’s baby and also of my brother and since
they left, he has not barked at all. I think he is
grieving for them. I have often heard of dogs
grieving for their masters, but I never saw an ex
ample o-f it before. My brother intends to come
back and take the dog, but of course the dog does
not know this.
I shall always try to be very kind to dumb ani
mals. We do not know how much they may suf
fer. Yours very truly,
Edwin 0. Chatwick.
Dear Editor Young Southerner:
I read “Delighted Mother’s” letter in the Young
Southerner a short time since and as my own ex
perience is somewhat similar to hers I wish to add a
■word of thanks to you for the pleasure you have
given my children.
Seeing the letters from other young people and
learning of their hopes and ambitions has proven
a stimulus to my two boys. The little biographical
sketches, too, are stimulating Jo the ambition of the
young readers.
Conducted by Louilse Threete Hodges.
I have no doubt that many boys and girls will
be led to greater interest in the study of history
by these little sketches.
I must not take up much of the space on your
page that belongs to the “young folks,” so will
close.
Again thanking you for the pleasure your page
has given me and mine, and wishing you continued
success, I am, Sincerely yours,
(Mrs.) Martha L. Carew.
Some one has said, “Deliver me from a man of
one book.” My prayer is, God give us more men
of one book. Men who know the one Book of books;
read all other books through its lenses; sound their
moral lives by its line and plummet; build their bus
iness and political lives by its square and compass;
bring their social lives within the beautiful circle of
its grace and purity; establish their home lives on
the sure foundation of its truth and faithfulness and
let their sentiment and affectional lives be governed
by its wonderful equity, and the clear white heat of
real love of which that Book alone teaches.
S. C. Oliver.
Great lessons may be learned from the most in
significant and lowly sources if we have our eyes,
ears and hearts open to receive them.
A few words from an ignorant old negro the other
day set me to thinking.
He was speaking to his companion, another old
negro, of some of the “hifalutin’ ” preachers of his
own race. “If dey wants to he’p us,” he said,
“dey needn’t stan’ up dar in the pulpit an’ talk an’
talk wid big words an’ den come out an’ feel too
big to shake han’s an’ ax how I is. No, if dey
wants to he’p us dey mus’ ac’ like Chris’ did an’
come down to whar we is. If I is down,
how he gwine to he’p me up lessen he git down to
whar he kin take hoi’ my han’ an’i lif ’ me up?”
The lesson in the old negro’s words is obvious.
Those who are far down in ignorance, poverty or
sin resent a patronizing air in those who would
help them. If we would really help them we must
by genuine sympathy and tact make them feel that
we recognize them as brothers of the same flesh and
blood, differing from us only by the accident of
birth and circumstances.
Editor Young Southerner:
Like some of the other boys who write to the
Young Southerner, I am greatly interested in the
biography of great men because I desire to be a
great man myself some day.
1 intend, if I can, to he a physician. I think
the greatest work a man can do is to relieve the
sufferings of mankind, and for that reason I think
Dr. Crawford W. Long, who discovered the use of
anaesthetics in surgery, was one of the greatest
men that Georgia has produced. He was born in
Danielsville, Georgia, and was graduated from
Franklin College, Pennsylvania. His great discov
ery was made almost by accident, but he had his
eyes open and made use of his accidental discov
ery. He found out from some drug clerks that the
vapor of ether, which they had inhaled for amuse
ment, would produce insensibility. He then experi
mented upon himself, and after he satisfied himself
that it would produce insensibility to pain, he ad
ministered some to a patient and removed a tumor
from his neck.
Think of the amount of suffering that mankind
has been snared by this wonderful discovery’
Before that time people who were so unfortunate as
to need surgical operations had to hear the pain
as best they could and often their sufferings were
very great.
I greatly enjoy the letters in the Young Southerner
and I hope we will continue to havg some good
ones every week.
The Golden Age for September 6, 1906.
My father says he thinks the Golden Age de
serves thanks for giving the young people a chance
to have their letters published, as it encourages
them to try to write well.
With best wishes for all the young correspon
dents, I subscribe myself,
Your sincere friend, Ambitious R. L.
Dear Editor:
I saw a letter in your paper from my dear friend,
Elicia Woodson, and so I thought I would write
to you also.
I have missed Elicia very much since she has
been away, but I think she will soon be at home
again where I can see her every day. She has
been away visiting her aunt almost a month.
I have another friend here who has not been away
and we have had very good times together, although
we have missed Elicia, for we both love her very
much.
I have some pets: a Maltese cat and two beautiful
kittens and a canary bird. My bird is a beautiful
singer. * Mother says she doesn’t know which is
happier when he sings, he in singing or I in listen
ing.
I have enjoyed my vacation very much, but I
am glad that school will soon open again. I like
to study, and I like almost all of my schoolmates.
I hope I shall learn a great deal this year.
I hope Elicia will see this letter. I think I am
one of the friends she spoke of in her letter.
Your friend,
Mary Cecilia McFarland.
'lnasmuch As Ye Did It Not.”
“Master, I have this day broken no law of the
Ten—have hurt no one. Is it enough?”
“Child, there stood by thy side one burdened with
heavy tasks of lowly, earthly labor. For a little
help, a little easing of the burden, he looked to thee.
Thou hast time and strength.”
“Master, I did not hear.”
“Thine ear was dull. There came a guest to seek
thy converse, a human friend in quest of fellow
ship. I marked thy sigh, thy frown. Why was
thy heart not glad?”
“I was reading. I hate to be disturbed, to be
called from great thoughts to trifling talk.”
“The children would have thee some few moments
in their play. Without thee they went wrong—how
far wrong thou wilt not know. It is too late.”
“Child’s play? But I was searching for a hid
den truth of spiritual import.”
“Thou didst not, turn aside to lift that lame one
who had fallen by the way.”
“I was in haste to do what I had planned. I
meant to help him when I should return.”
“Another lifted him. Shall I question further?”
—Selected.
The Saloon.
I do not know one good thing about the saloon.
It is an evil thing that has not one redeeming
feature in its history to commend it to good men.
It breaks the law of God and man. It desecrates
the Sabbath; it profanes the name of religion; it
defies public order; it tramples underfoot the ten
derest feeling of humanity; it is a moraf pesti
lence that blights the very atmosphere of town and
country; it is a stain upon honesty, a blur upon pur
ity, a clog upon progress, a check noon the nobler
impulses; it is an incentive to falsehood, deceit,
and crime. Search through the history of this hate
tui thing, and find ore page over which some moth
er can bow her grateful head and thank God for
all the saloon did tor her boy. There is no such
record. All its history is written in tears and
blood, with smears of shame and stains of crime,,
and dark blots of disgrace.”—Selected.