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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.
With Correspondents.
Our sweet poet, Miss Richard, again kindly con
tributes a charade for the entertainment of our
young people. And she again offers to mail a
copy of the interesting booklet, 11 Three Bells,”
to the first girl and boy who sends the correct solu
tion.
But she makes the condition that the sender must
show how r the charade is solved. It will not be
sufficient to simply give the word or words which
constitute the answer, but the process by which
the answer is reached must be shown.
The answers must be sent to me and I will for
ward the first correct ones to Miss Richard.
Charade.
My first is a thing that is lowly, indeed,
But if love be within, ’tis a home of joy;
Many a man who has won lasting fame
Was a dweller in one when he was a boy.
My second is something you learn of in books
Which teach of each table and measure and
weight;
If you can uplift twenty pounds, little child,
You lift but a hundredth of it, I’ll relate.
My whole has been named as the “king of the
South.”
’Tis a product of sunny and w T arm southern fields,
But in climes far away, as well as at home,
Large measure of profit and service it yields.
Dear Mrs. Hodges:
I am not a “Young Southerner,” but I am a
great-grandmother with a young heart and I like
to read the letters in your department.
I would like to tell the children of a very pleas
ant visit I made to some relatives in the country
during September.
You can have no idea how beautiful the cotton
fields were, unless you have seen them. They look
ed almost like great fields of snow. But the farm
ers could not get sufficient hands to pick the cot
ton, and I fear much of it will be ruined.
I saw great quantities of scuppernongs and figs,
and they are so delicious and wholesome that I
wondered why every family does not have a grape
vine and fig bushes. They could do so with but
little trouble.
One family that I visited seemed to me the hap
piest family that I have seen in a long while.
There were the Christian father and mother and
seven children, five boys and two girls, and all
seemed to be controlled by the spirit of love. The
children were all obedient and respectful to the
parents and kind to each other. The girls played
on the piano, and the boys and the father would
join in the singing. At meal time all sat down to
a long table, after a prayer led by the father and
all joined in pleasant conversation. The children
respectfully asked questions about their studies or
anything in which they were interested, and always
received polite, helpful answers.
There was no selfishness manifested and never
any ill temper or impatience.
I think if we had more such families as this we
would not have many riots in the future.
I saw The Golden Age map hanging in one home
that I visited and the family seemed to appi’eciate
both that and the paper which is a regular visitor.
I hope to see many more letters from the young
people and I assure them that their letters are much
enjoyed.
A loving Great-Grandmother.
Conducted by Louilse Threete Hodges.
Dear Mrs. Hodges:
My mother has asked me several times to write
a letter to The Golden Age, as she wants me to be
a writer and thinks that writing for the Young
Southerner will be a good way to develop my tal
ent, if I have any. Sometimes I like to write, but
on a dark afternoon like this I would much rather
curl up in the big Morris chair in the sitting room,
with a plate of fudge and the latest copy of The
Golden Age and read what the other girls and boys
have written, for their letters are so much more
interesting than anything I can write.
I read a great deal—the daily papers, magazines,
and occasionally a novel. I do not care for the
light, trashy novels that some girls like, but would
rather read those that Jiave a moral. I like history
and stories of travel also.
I wonder how many of the girls who write for
your department like to sew. I am just learning
how, and like it better than I thought I would.
I have begun making for myself a very pretty
kimono.
I think it would be nice to have a puzzle depart
ment in connection with the Young Southerner.
What do you think of it, Mrs. Hodges? The boys
and girls could send in original conundrums, ana
grams, acrostics, etc. I think it would be fun.
If any of you, boys and girls, agree with me, write
to Mrs. Hodges, and tell her so, and maybe she will
let us have a puzzle corner.
I am not attending school this year, but am
studying at home. Sincerely, G. P. W.
Human Sympathy for a Kitten.
All the world is not selfish and unfeeling. A
very little thing may serve to show how many peo
ple have real hearts.
The plight of a wee black and white kitten arous
ed the sympathy of 2,000 people about Public
School No. 4, at 4000 Third Avenue, New York.
For days the kitten was imprisoned between the
school building and an adjoining flat house.
Its head had caught tightly between two blocks
of stone. When jumping the space between the
two buildings, the kitten had fallen in and become
wedged. Many unavailing efforts were made to
rescue it, and food was let down from above to
keep it alive. Finally a long drill of steel was in
troduced, and one block of stone chipped off. re
leasing the tiny sufferer.
Then a slip noose of rope was made, and, after
many efforts, was got about its body and drawn
tight. Kitty was brought to the surface and free
dom again, with many cheers from the hundreds
v J lio had been trying to aid it.—Exchange.
A Simple Explanation.
Mike and Pat worked for a wealthy farmer.
They planned to turn burglars and steal the money
which the farmer had hid in one of the rooms of
his house. They waited until midnight, then start
ed to do the job.
In order to get the money they had to pass the
farmer’s bedroom. Mike says, “I’ll go first, and
if it’s all right you can follow and do just the same
as I.”
Mike started to pass the room. Just as he got
opposite the door the floor creaked. This awoke
the farmer, who called out, “Who’s there?”
Mike answered with a “meaow!” (imitating a
cat). The farmer’s wife being awake, said, “O,
John, it’s the cat!” and all was quiet.
Now Pat started to pass the door, and as he got
opposite it the floor creaked again. The farmer
called out again, louder than before, “Who’s
there?”
Pat answered, “Another cat.”—Buffalo Times.
Two-thirds of the population of Calcutta are
males.
The Golden Age for October 25, 1906.
Some Interesting Facts Compiled For
The Young Southerner.
The stamping of the foot indicates impatience
or rage.
The shrug of the shoulders indicates indifference
or contempt.
It is said that about 9 per cent of the human
family are left-handed.
The laying of the fingers on one’s own lips en
joins silence on others.
The two strongest fortifications in North Amer
ica are at Quebec and Halifax.
Gestures are universally used to give emphasis
to spoken language, and in many instances they are
used alone to express certain emotions or ideas.
The American Indian indicates that a man is
a liar by placing his hand to his lips and distending
two fingers in imitation of the forked tongue of a
snake.
It is estimated that there are at least 400,000
hymns in all languages, of which the greatest num
ber are in German and the next greatest number are
in English.
The German language ranks third in number
among the four leading languages of Europe, the
first being English, the second Russian and the
fourth French. German is now spoken by about
75,000,000 people.
A valuable and sensible law is that which re
quires all manufacturers to stamp goods as being
exactly as represented. The pure food taw is the
first to require this absolutely and it is to be hoped
that other manufacturers will quickly follow suit
or will be legally compelled to do so. It would seem
to be not only common honesty but good business
as well to stamp goods for what they are and not
for what they resemble.
How to Make Time Fly.
Bertie was very cross and miserable because he
had to do his lessons. He had thrown his books
pettishly on the table and had ruffled his hair in
a fit of temper, and had stamped upon the floor and
had done other foolish things, and now he was
standing' at the window looking’ out moodilv upon
the lawn. How slowly the time went by! Tick,
tick, tick! What a slow, stupid old clock it was!
hy did it not go faster? It seemed ages since
ten o’clock, and yet it was only eleven now! An
other hour and a half before lunch.
His father entered the room and looked at him
sadly. •• tired of doing nothing* Bertie?” said he.
“Come out on the lawn with me, and I will show
you something.”
They walked out together, and Bertie’s father
showed him the birds darting hither and thither,
the sparrows and starlings in the eaves, and the
rocks high up in the great trees, and the robins
among the hedges. Then he asked Bertie to listen
to lorn, the stable boy, whistling and singing mer
rily as he went about his work.
“Do you know why they are so happy, Bertie?”
he asked.
Bertie shook his head.
“It is because they are busy doing something. The
birds are building their nests. Tom is doing his
duty in the stable. It is God’s law that we"can
not be happy unless we are at honest work. Now
tiy it for an hour and see how the time slips by.”
Bertie’s face brightened. He felt interested to
see how the experiment would succeed.' He went
in and set himself to learn the second and third de
clensions in Latin, walking to and fro as he did so.
By the time he had accomplished his task he
looked up, expecting to see that half the time had
gone. He could hardly believe his eyes. The hand
of the clock pointed to half-past twelve! He had
been so busy that he had not even heard it strike
the hour!—Selected.