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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. In Autumntide. By Clifton Scollard. The apple seeds are black at core; The linden leaves, like fairy ore, (Shed the effulgence of their gold, Paving the pathways green before. More plaintive grows the thrush’s pipe; The quince’s check is yellow ripe; And the smooth pallor of the pear Reveals, like dawn, a russet stripe. The minstrel wind behind the hill Above its strings is never still; Autumn through all the brooding land Works the rich wonder of its will. As in a necromancer’s glass, We watch the radiant pageant pass, Wood waving banner back to wood Across the severing seas of grass. Forgetful what the hours presage, We feel that we have plucked a page From the untroubled Book of Dreams— A leaf from out the Golden Age I *—Appleton’s Magazine. An Averted Tragedy. No doubt, when least expected, our lives often border upon tragedies which would chill our blood and fill us with horror if we knew of our danger, but some special providence changes the course of events, and we pass on, in blissful ignorance of the calamity which threatened us. The following incident is an illustration: It was an ideal afternoon in early summer, and Robert had taken Lucy out for a drive. After passing the city’s limits and going some distance along the highway, they turned into a road but little traveled, which led off into a forest, and soon they were enjoying the cool seclusion of the dense woods. The air was sweet with the fra grance of wild flowers, and vocal with the songs of birds happy in their freedom. The horse, seeming to partake of the restful spir it of the woods, slackened his pace, and the wheels of the buggy crunched softly over the sandy road. The quiet of the surroundings and the balmy at mosphere invited to the construction of aerial edi fices, and Robert and Lucy, after the manner of young people, proceeded to build the proverbial “castles in Spain,” which were rose-colored and rainbow-tinted from base to turret. So absorbed were they in the pleasing pastime that they took no notice of the passing hours. The sun sank toward the horizon, the shadows deepened beneath the trees, and the birds, tired from their all-day concert, gradually softened their notes and prepared to “put their heads beneath their wings.” Finally the tinkling of distant cowbells was 'heard, and Lucy laughingly said: “Listen! the cows are coming home, and we had better follow their example. See, how late it is!” They had driven far out through the forest and were evidently nearing some countryman’s home. They halted for a moment and gave themselves up to the charm of the beautiful woodland; then the horse’s head was turned homeward and he started in a brisk trot toward the city. * * * * sje * * From his covert a tramp who was in hiding on account of a terrible crime he had committed, had seen the young couple pass, and believing they Conducted by Louilse Threete Hodges. would return by the same road, determined, in his desperation, to waylay and rob them. He reasoned that a young man driving out with a lady would hardly be armed. He planned to spring out from his hiding place, seize the reins, quickly cut the traces, and before the young man could re cover from his surprise, give him a blow that would render him insensible. Then he would take what money or valuables he might find, mount the horse and under cover of the darkness which was fast approaching, make his escape. He had no fear of resistance from the girl as he expected she would faint or 'be paralyzed from fright. He selected a spot where there was a thick growth of trees and bushes near a little hollow or depression in. the road, and well hidden in the shad ows, waited. Presently the sound of wheels and of the horse’s hoofs was heard, and the tramp made ready to spring. But at the moment when the buggy came into view two horsemen were seen coming in a slow trot from the opposite direction. They were the sons of the farmer whose home was at the edge of the forest, and they were returning home from the city. 1 They passed Robert and Lucy just at the point where the tramp was stationed, little dreaming of the tragedy which their timely presence had avert ed. ‘ L. T. H. With Correspondents. Dear Editor: My uncle takes the Golden Age and he allows me to read it. I have been greatly interested in the letters in the Young Southerner. I think the writers cer tainly deserve thanks for taking the pains to find out so many interesting things and telling the readers about them. I have enjoyed the little sketches about great men, and the descriptions of interesting places, etc., but I like best to hear about animals. I dear ly love dogs; they are so intelligent and affection ate. If we are kind to them they are faithful and useful, too. I have a mastiff, a beagle and a shepherd, anl I like them all. The shepherd is the most affection ate, 'but the mastiff is the most watchful. I am going to try to get a dachshund and a greyhound. A friend of mine gave me two nice stories about dogs. One was, “Bob, Son of Battle,” and the other was “The Call of the Wild.” I have read a good deal about dogs and the more I learn about them the better I like them. In ancient times the great Danes were used as allies in the armies, and they sometimes wore mail armor. Cyrus the Great had his war-dogs, and the Romans also used them in their wars. I visited in the country during the summer and I think I would like to be a farmer. I think it would be very interesting to understand when to plant and how to cultivate and harvest the different crops. If one understands how to do it well, farm ing is profitable. If you think this letter good enough to print, I may write another. With best wishes for the writers and readers of the Young Southerner, Very truly yours, Julian Jesse Smith. Dear Editor: I am a stranger visiting your charming city and since I have been here I have had the pleasure of reading the Golden Age. I think the Young South erner is fine and I wish to join your pleasant circle. I am a Kentuckian and, of course, I think my na tive state is the greatest in the union, especially the world-renowned 'blue grass region. Kentucky is famed for her fine horses and beautiful women, The Golden Age for October 11, 1906. and there have been great men among her sons. The Mississippi River, the “father of waters,” flows along the western border of the state and there are many other navigable waterways. I could tell you a great deal about Kentucky and why I am glad it is my native state, but I will not fill my letter in that way. I spent a part of the summer in Savannah, Geor gia, and I enjoyed my visit there very much. Savannah is called the Forest City because of the great number of trees there. The streets are broad and beautifully shaded by various kinds of trees, among them japonieas, magnolias and catalpas. Forsyth Park is a very pleasant place of resort. On Tybee Island, which is not far away, there is a lighthouse 134 feet high. I must not make my letter too long so will close by saying that I am going home in a few days and will then re-enter school. Your true friend, Frances H. McDowell. Answer to charade: Ear-nest Wil (1) lie—Ear nest Willie. Cast Thy Bread Upon the Waters. A little girl expressed to her parents one day a wish that they would give her two New Testa ments. To tlie question of her parents why it must be two the child replied that one was for herself, and the other to send to the heathen. She was giv en two volumes, and in one of them she wrote: “A little girl who loves the Lord Jesus wishes with all her heart that whoever reads this should also love and believe on Him.” The New Testament went to India, and found its way to a station in the interior. A Hindu lady ob tained it. She could read, but was unable to write; and as she longed to be able to write her attention was immediately drawn to the inscription on the fly-leaf. The large and distinct characters of the child’s handwriting attracted her so much that she tried to imitate them again and again. Gradually the sense of the words made an impression upon her and the question arose: “May not those words have been written just for me?” She began then earnestly to read the New Testament, her eyes were opened, and she learned to know and love her Sav iour. Years passed. The little girl had meanwhile grown up, thought no more of the New Testament which she had sent once upon a time to the heathen. But her love for missions had grown with her, and it was her deepest desire to serve the Lord among the heathen. She was accepted as a missionary, and sent to a rather out-of-the-way station in In dia. There she entered one day the house of a Hindu Christian lady. In the conversation the Hindu Christian lady. In the conversation the ment, and told her she, a Hindu heathen, had been by its means brought to Jesus' Christ her Saviour. You may imagine the joyful astonishment of the lady missionary when she recognized in the book the same New Testament on whose fly-leaf she had, many years ago, as a little girl, written those words which had served to show the poor Hindu lady the way to Jesus. Together they knelt down, praised God’s wonderful ways, and thanked Him who had drawn them both to Himself. “Cast thy bread up on the waters and thou shalt find it after many days.”—French Paper. A Kind Man.—A gentleman was disturbed in his rest in the middle of the night by someone knocking on the street door. “Who’s there?” he asked. “A friend,” was the answer. “What do you want?” “I want to stay here all night.” “All right, stay there, by all means,” was the benevolent reply.—Judge.