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VOICES OF YOUTH
The Sword of Robert Lee.
By Father Ryan.
Forth from its scabbard, pure and bright,
Flashed the sword of Lee!
Far in the front of the deadly tight,
High o’er the brave in the cause of Right
Its stainless sheen, like a beacon light,
Led us to victory.
Out of its scabbard, where, full long
It slumbered peacefully,
Roused from its rest by the battle’s song,
Shielding the feeble, smiting the strong,
Guarding the right, avenging the wrong,
Gleamed the sword of Lee.
Forth from its scabbard, high in air,
Beneath Virginia’s sky—
And they who saw it gleaming there,
And knew wdio (bore it, knelt to swear
That where that sword led they would dare
To follow—and to die.
Out of its scabbard; never hand
Waved sword from stain so free,
Nor purer sword led braver band,
Nor braver bled for brighter land.
Nor brighter land had cause so grand,
Nor cause a chief like Lee!
Forth from its scabbard! How we prayed
That sword might victor be;
And when our triumph was delayed,
And many a heart grew sore afraid,
We still hoped on while gleamed the blade,
Os noble Robert Lee.
*
Forth from its scabbard, all in vain
Bright flashed the sword of Lee;
’Tis shrouded now in its sheath again,
It sleeps the sleep of our noble slain,
Defeated, yet ■without a stain,
Proudly and peacefully.
Birthday of Gen. Robert E. Lee.
We believe most of our young people have already
been reminded that the 19th of January is the hun
dredth anniversary of the birth of that great
Southerner, General Robert E. Lee. All of you,
of course have studied something of the life of this
great man, for he was not only a great Southerner,
but one of the most distinguished citizens which
this country has ever produced. We are all proud
of General Lee; his record as a soldier is comment
ed on in every country where men mention the
prowess of arms, but what is more, his pure Chris
tian character, his faith and perfect trust in the
Great Unseen Power was, after all, the true secret
of his noble life. But what we want our young
people to remember is that General Lee did not
suddenly, and all at once, rise to be a .great man
and a great general. Greatness, after all, is only
goodness well directed, and we learn from the rec
ord of General Lee’s early life that he was, first
of all, “a good boy.” In one of the letters which
have been preserved by some friend of General
Lee’s distinguished father. General Henry Lee,
these words occur in speaking of his family: “Rob
ert is always good!” Think, children, what that
means for a father to be able to say! And it was
not so easy a hundred years ago for a boy to “be
always good.” He didn’t have the many diversions
the numerous books and playthings and helpful
schools to aid him in “being good.” The life of
a boy at that time must have had many difficulties,
yet young Robert Lee met them all as bravely as
he did the sterner trials that came to him in later
life. We have not learned much of his childhood,
but we do know that when he desired to enter the
great school at West Point it was necessary then,
as now, for him to pass a competitive examination,
and a very rigid one, too. He did this so success
fully that he got the appointment from Virginia,
and thus began his notable career as a soldier. From
The Golden Age for January 17, 1907.
being a “good boy” he grew into a good youth—•
the foundation was laid for his character as a
good man, who was great in the highest and best
sense. It is easy to see from this that boys, and
girls, too, who begin their young lives right, may
be building a fair structure of future greatness,
the extent of which even they cannot calculate.
Bartlett Kelly Wins Christmas
Prize.
According to our promise we announce this week
the winner of our Christmas Prize, which was of
fered for the best work done in dispensing Christ
mas cheer, and for the best letter telling of this
work. We submitted all the letters received to an im
partial committee, and the decision reached is that
Bartlett Kelley, of Cordele, Ga., whose letter was
published last week, had, with his brothers, done
more than any of the other correspondents for the
needy at Christmas time. Even before our prize
offer was made Bartlett had promised his mother
to devote the money usually spent on fireworks to
helping those who would not otherwise have had
any Christmas sunshine at all. A poor couple, a
widow with two children, a needy family and
several other persons, had the glad Christmas day
made brighter by the help of these two children,
Bartlett and his brother. The spirit, too, in which
the gifts were made, was the real Christmas spirit
for Bartlett quotes these words of Paul in his
letter, published last week: “Though I give all
my goods to feed the poor and have not love, it
profits me nothing. ’ ’
Although we had no voice in deciding the prize
winner, we cannot help but feel that the decision
was a wise one, and we congratulate Bartlett. We
hope, too, he will write again and tell us of his
receipt of the prize and how he likes it.
What the “Prize” Is.
This prize is nothing less than a copy of our
editor’s splendid book, entitled “Echoes of a Re
cluse,” and written while he was confined to his
bed during a long and tedious illness of seven
years. The book abounds in illustrations, many of
them photographs of the scenes which surrounded
the young invalid, and the context of this work is
of such a character that we believe it will be help
ful to every young person. To make the prize copy
doubly valuable, the editor will inscribe it himself,
stating the reason for its presentation. We do not
believe that our young people would prize any
book in the language more than this one, while we
feel certain they could have none which would
prove a more helpful friend, guide and teacher
than this same “Echoes from a Recluse.”
A Brother to Girls.
Dear Editor:—
I heard a gentleman say, in our house last night,
that you were a “brother to girls,” and while I
knew you let a lot of Monroe College girls call you
“Brother Willie,” I wondered if you would let
us, who read The Golden Age with so much pleas
ure, call you that, also? I never had a brother
of my own, and I envy all the girls who have
them—l know some brothers tease their sisters,
and many are neither kind nor thoughtful, but, af
ter all, I do think love is deep down in every broth
er’s heart, and if I had a real brother I would
make him love me!
The Golden Age has been a great comfort to
me, and I want to thank you, as editor, friend or
brother, for letting us have such a paper. If you
would like to hear from me again, I shall be glad
to write and tell you about some of the things I
have done and some of the places I have seen, for
I have been quite a traveler in my life, even though
I am only twelve years old.
Hoping that you will publish this letter, I am
Your friend and s-ister,
Daisy Dean.
Now, this is a letter which appeals right to the
editor’s heart! He delights in having new sisters,
and wants every one who is willing to “adopt”
him as a brother to tell him so. He is really grate
ful to this little girl for her sweet letter, and he
wants her to write him again, and soon at that,
Os course he will be “Brother Willie” to her, and
she has just as much right to call him so as the
Monroe girls she mentions! He is waiting for a
second letter from Daisy, and hopes it may
come soon and be full of interesting items. What
she does and what she has seen cannot fail to enter
tain the readers of The Golden Age, and she will
always be given space for a letter—even a long
one!
“Trying for New Subscribers.”
Dear Editor:—
Though I have never written to the young peo
ples’ department of The Golden Age, I have read
every copy and enjoyed it very much.
I am not a member of the Order of the Golden
Age, but I want to try to get five subscribers to
The Golden Age, as is mentioned in your New Year
plans in January third number.
Yours truly,
Tallassee, Ala. Hester Avant.
We are glad to welcome you, Hester, into our
circle of young workers, and we will help you all
we can to get the new subscribers—let us know
where we can send sample copies for you, and we
shall be glad to do so. But won’t you come into
our “Order of the Golden Age”? We want you
in our work for personal good, as well as for the
good of the paper, so we beg you to join us in all!
“Just —You—Smile!”
When everything goes crooked,
And seems inclined to rile,
Don’t fuss nor kick nor fidget—-
‘ ‘ J ust—you—smile! ’ ’
It’s hard to learn the lesson,
But learn it if you’d win,
When people tease and pester,
( ‘ J ust—you—grin! ’ ’
When some one tries to “do” you.
By taking more than half,
Be patient, kind and pleasant,
1 ‘Just—you—laugh! ’ ’
But when you find you’re “stuffy,”
Os course, some time you will,
And cannot smile, nor laugh, nor grin,
‘ 1 Just—keep—still! ’ ’
The editor was fortunate enough to hear this
charming little poem recited by a bright-eyed lit
tle maiden. Miss Jennie Lou Strange, the daughter
of Prof. G. G. Strange, of Banks county. It was
said so delightfully, and its philosophy seemed so
helpful that he wants all the young people who
read The Golden Age to know these cheerful lines,
and to try to “smile” and “grin” and “laugh”
whenever they can in life, and when they can do
no more, to “just keep still!” It will save a lot
of heartache some time, and, oh! if we try this, dear
young people, you can be sure we will be mighty
glad of it some of these days! Ask any one you
know if this isn’t so and let us know here what
each of yon think of this new motto: “Just—
you—smile! ”
A Lock of Washington’s Hair.
The Washington Memorial Chapel at Valley Forge
has come ino possession of a highly prized relic for
exhibition in the Patriots’ Hall. It is a lock of hair
from the head of George Washington. The gift is
from Mrs. Pechin, of Philadelphia, to whom it was
presented thirty-four years ago by James Hamilton,
who received it from his father, Alexander Hamil
ton, an aide-de-camp to General Washington, to
whom it had been given hy the general as a token
of esteem,
