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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.