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VIDALIA COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE The Golden Age stands as the friend evermore of institutions of learning where honest, earnest work is done—whether the great university, the small college, the lonely school house in the country or the fitting school that stands between. Such a school as the latter—a strong, well-ordered fitting school for practical life as well as college endeavor, is the Vidalia Collegiate Institute, under the leader ship of Prof. E. L. Ray. IBB ? v. . ” J ' BESSES®!®’! ■1 ■ IHI BBBK -BE" ByMjVV'/ . .Be ,i^BEp : v •i i vBBP S K -*BE I ■mF? i Bl I. ■. ■ . I BHj I ■ i™* ■ MF ' 4.4 1 I '"flit ’1- 4. ■ IBBL. ■■ . BMB' i I - jn Est VE i V..— . Ko tH ■ <v F , .JZZ. 1 ’ x wi HMw If wBMIB A ' m B ' -iOS ?'-. .. r<• JISIS Vidalia is comparatively a new town at the junc tion of the S. A. L., the M. D. and S. and the Mil len and Southwestern railroads. The growth of the town has been rapid and substantial. And the sensible citizens have determined that the commer cial growth of the progressive little city shall not outstrip the intellectual and religious progress of the people. Splendid, commodious churches came first, and then in 1903 the citizens almost as a unit A Presbyterian Veteran. Editor The Golden Age, Atlanta, Ga. Dear Brother Upshaw: Having been a subscriber to The Golden Age from its very first issue, I feel constrained to add my humble testimony to the intrinsic worth of your splendid paper and to the great work which it is doing for God and for righteousness. I regard The Golden Age as a fear less, clean, clear-cut paper. It makes no compro mise with evil and goes straight after the evil doer. I hope, sincerely, you will keep up the fight against the liquor traffic and gambling and Sabbath desecration and all other forms of lawlessness in our land. We need a great, fearless paper, such as The Golden Age, to stand up for good laws and for the speedy execution of law. The laws of our country must be respected and obeyed. Every good citizen should stand up for law and do all in his power to suppress all outlaw’ism. We need laws under whose Aegis every citizen, be he white or black, shall feel absolutely safe from violence. The humblest black man, woman or child should have 'the protection of the law, and not only so, but even the criminal should be protected from the violence of the mob. There is no excuse or extenuation for the mob or for mob-law in our land. This is God’s country. This is a Christian coun try. PROF. E. L. RAF AND FACULTY. The Golden Age for October 11, 1906. voted for $12,000 bonds to erect an up-to-date school building. This handsome brick structure, -with im posing Corinthian columns, crowns a commanding eminence on the outskirts of the city. Professor E. L. Ray, the superintendent, is a man of rare cul ture, energy and Christian consecration. The other members of the faculty whose pictures appear with his in the accompanying group, show how well he is supported in his efforts. The school is eo-education- al, attracting many boys and girls from the sur rounding country. A military feature begins with the term of 1906- 07, and Editor E. C. J. Dickens, of the local paper, is ready to declare with enthusiasm that “America was discovered in order that this railroad center might be established and the Vidalia Collegiate In stitute shower its blessings on South Georgia boys and girls.” All mob-law is begotten of the devil and born in hell. Keep up your fight, Mr. Editor, for the reign of truth and righteousness. Keep up your fight against the saloon—for the enactment of good laws and for their speedy exe cution, and then we will hear no more of violent and blood-thirsty mobs. Keep the pure, white banner of Jesus Christ nailed to your mast-head, and continue your war fare against whiskey and all lawlessness, and the victory will be ours through the Prince of Peace. A. R. Holderby, Pastor Moore Memorial Presbyterian Church. Take heed that the very things you despise and hold yourself 'above have not the power to drag you down. The ugly spirit in another you would not think of giving way to, if it cause you to be irritable, has in just so far been the stronger and overcome you. It is very difficult to remain un ruffled and cool when the very air is warm with somebody’s unrestrained temper, but if you allow it to affect you, how different are you from the other one? “Habiliments for Infants” is a sign in a cloth ing store in Boston. A Western visitor, seeing it, stopped in amazement. “What does that mean?” he asked his better ac quainted fellow Westerner. “That?” said the other. “Oh, that is Boston dialect for kid’s duds.”—Youth’s Companion. The Midnight Whistler. By AMELIA ARNOLD HEIDT. It was one night in the beautiful city of Atlanta, and in an upper room of the Tabernacle Infirmary, that wonderful institution of Christian ministra tion, lay a woman. There were other sufferers with in the building, for do not its very walls represent suffering and succor, two elements that should go hand in hand ? But this woman was a stranger in the city; she had come from her home in a distant town for treatment which must culminate in an operation. The physician had gone his rounds for the night, the nurse had made her comfortable and she was alone. Only those who have been ill in a hospital can know what that means. The neat little room, the neat little white bed, every want anticipated for the night by the kindest of nurses, but oh, the horrible sense of loneliness that comes when the door is closed, and her footsteps cease to echo down the hallway. The woman felt it; from her cot by the window she looked into the street below, ’neath whose lights were men hurrying home to wives who loved them as she had loved her husband. She saw homes whose open doors and windows beamed wel come to those returning from the cares and toil of the day, and borne on the breeze the clear laughter of a child was wafted to her ear—yet she was alone —alone with the night, the weakness, the dread. No baby's soft hand to fondle her fevered brow! No husband’s strong arms to raise her tired form and place the pillows as only he had known how to do! No goodnight kiss! Tomorrow the surgeon’s knife and then—(?) The doctor had called her the bravest of patients. She was never a coward—just a woman, and the tears she could no longer restrain broke forth, and her sobs echoed into the stariy stillness of the night, when suddenly up from the street below came another sound seeming to deny her desolation. It was a man, whistling strong and clear, “No, never alone.” Sweeter and clearer rose the notes claiming the woman’s attention. How familiar! Many times had she sung it in church, often unheedingly, as we are wont to sing when the sea of life is calm. Again when troubles had come she had sung it, every word a prayer, but now— The man was walking rapidly, but out of the melody seemed to come the very words, “Trying to conquer my soul.” The sobs ceased. The billows of loneliness and disease had swept all about her, but she would not be overwhelmed, for, still came the notes, faint but distinct: “He promised never to leave me, Never to leave me alone.” And, thought the wom an, “He is faithful who has promised,” and with a smile she fell asleep. Tlie unknown whistler went his way, unconscious of the good he had done, “For who has sight so keen and strong That it can follow the flight of song?” “The song, from beginning to end,” he’ll find again treasured in the heart of this woman. God was in the song, and chose the cheerful whistler to carry His message of comfort. The little daughter of the house awoke one morn ing to be greeted with the tidings that she had a new little brother, who had arrived the night be fore. “You can’t imagine who brought him,” said the nurse. The little one thought a moment, and then said, brightly: “Oh, yes, now I know; it was the milkman.” “Why the milkman?” was asked in a surprised tone. “Because it says on his wagon, 4 Families Sup plied,’ of course,” was the answer. A sarcastic lawyer, during the trial of a case, made the use of the expression, “Cast not your pearls before swine.” Subsequently, as he arose to make the argument, the judge facetiously re marked: “Be careful, Mr. S , not to cast your pearls before swine.” “Don’t be alarmed, m’lud; I am about to address the jury, not the court,” was the reply of the bar rister. 3