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“plain” of dress, who isn’t made up “just so,” how
ever that is, has no attraction for us. Don’t we
have “more time” for the girl with the “swell” tail
ored costumes, the “dreams” of hats, etc., and who
is “foamy”—if you will permit me the expression—
than we do for the dear, good, solid-minded, sensibly
garbed, motherly little soul who is really the bless
ing to mankind that it is only woman’s privilege to
be? It seems so to me. We criticize mother and
sister for being too plain, perhaps, and when it comes
to selecting girls for companions those with “swell
lugs” have our attention. But still we —consistent
creatures —criticize womankind for being vain. If
not by words we, by our conduct, have said to them:
“Please our eyes—too often lustful —not our sense
of reason.” If the ladies in general should have a
distorted view on matters of dress, I feel that man
is not guiltless of “aiding and abetting.” Give wo
man what is her due in the way of criticism, but at
the same time, give the devil his (note the sex) due.
“Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.” And vanity is not a
matter of sex, either. I thank you for your time,
friends, and trust I may have the pleasure of ac
quaintance with many of you as individuals. If
Miss Bryan will kindly register my address I shall
really hope to hear from some of you.
Kalamazoo, Mich. M. DUNNE FERNOU.
*
“FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD.”
I was pleasantly entertained by Inez’s graphic por
trayal of life in the country, recently published in
The Golden Age. Inez presents her subject clearly,
evidently from the standpoint of experience and prac
tical knowledge of country life, with its sunny and
its shadowy side, so
“Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.”
Inez might have strengthened her argument had
she told of the increasing opportunities the country
is affording in the way of schools and churches; also,
had she mentioned the diversions that vary the mo
notony of country life —the picnics, campings out,
parties, public dinners and clubs for civic improve
ment, for social recreation or for study and reading.
Nor should she leave out the excellent cooking,
which, in the country, adds to the delicious fresh
ness of vegetables, fruits —eggs and game. Nature
is beautiful, but no one—not even a poet—can live
on flowers, dew and moonlight. Owen Meredith, in
his well known poem-novel, “Lucile,” has told us —
“We may live without poetry, music and art;
We may live without conscience, and live without
heart;
We may live without friends; we may live without
books,
But civilized man cannot live without cooks.”
It has ajways been my opinion that cooks do not
receive the consideration they deserve. Cooking is
really a fine art, and the cooking school is a useful
feature of modern civilization. The churches in the
country —though they put on little style—are consci
entiously conducted. The several Christian denomin
ations —Methodist, Baptist and Presbyterian—are
usually represented by churches, where the good,
old-fashioned religion is expounded by ministers full
of faith and piety. Every church has its Sabbath
school, accessible to all, where pupils may study in
different grades of lessons as is done in the Sunday
schools of the city. The country people attend
church service regularly, coming in nice buggies and
surreys, drawn by good horses. As a rule, they con-
SPECIAL CLUBBING OFFER.
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To our readers we make the following offer:
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Uncle Remus’s Magazine and The Golden Age one year,
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Send all orders direct to
THE: GOLDEN AGE, Atlanta, Ga.
The Golden Age for August 1, 1907.
tribute promptly to the support of the church.
Country people in most sections are blessed with
good water. Where ordinary wells are not used,
there are cisterns or free artesian wells with copi
ous streams of water flowing into them at a depth of
700 or 800 feet, furnishing the most wholesome drink
ever imbibed by man or beast. As regards the dress
of country people; it is plain, neat and appropriate.
There is no attempt at being ultra-fashionable, and
the gauzy, sleeveless waists with low-cut linings are
not worn by our sensible country girls. Neither do
they affect the mannish dress —with shirt bosoms,
cravat and masculine coat, such as I have seen some
city women sport. Nor do our young men in the
country wear tooth pick shoes and gaudy ties and
hair parted in the middle. The late Sam Jones, in
his sermons, was accustomed to score the “dude” and
the “dudine” —as the foppish individuals of both sexas
were called in the slang phrase of twenty years ago.
We have the same class with us today, though the
old name for them is seldom heard, but you do not
see these brainless fashion extremists in the coun
try. Here, if a fellow has one nice suit in which to
go to church or to see his best girl, he is generally
contented —and we are told that contentment is
great gain. We of the country, in this section at
least, belong to the old-time citizenship —and it is
“hard to teach an old coon new tricks.” I will con
clude with a paraphrase of Thomas Gray’s often
quoted lines —and add a bit of rhyme of my own,
“Far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife
Our wandering steps will scarcely go astray;
Along the calm sequestered vale of life,
We’ll keep the even tenor of our way.”
We cannot always see alike,
Our natures are diverse,
Environments are different;
Some better and some worse;
And for these reasons it is clear,
Our views are apt to differ here.
Ivy, Ala. B. R. IVY.
*
INTRODUCES TWO FRIENDS.
Are you surprised to see me again? Please don’t
show me the door before I have had time to say my
little speech? I come this time to tell you about
two friends of mine. I promised them both I would
write you a letter of introduction. First, let me
present to you Mr. Mack Johnson, of Spencer, Va.,
Route No. 3. He is living a lonely, shut-in life, with
no one to help, cheer, or comfort him save an aged
mother. Any letter or message that you might send
would be gladly received, I am sure. And, should
you feel able to help him in a more substantial way,
rest assured, however small your contribution, it will
be appreciated and will benefit a worthy fellow be
ing. The other friend, whom 1 want you to meet
is Henry Cox, of Lyons, Ga., Route No. 2. Perhaps
some of you already know him through his picture,
which his friends and others have been kind enough
to buy in order to help him. Both of these dear
friends would be glad, indeed, to hear from any of
you who could spare the time from your duties to
write a line or two. I know you have many things
to do in this busy world, but see if you can’t stretch
out one of your rays of sunshine and send it in the
direction of Mr. Cox and Mr. Johnson. I have a
keen sympathy for them because of my own af
fliction. We never know just how much we can
sympathize with a fellow being in trouble until God
has seen fit to deprive us of some of our blessings.
Read This, Student Workers!
Shellman, Ga., July 26, 1907.
The Golden Age, Atlanta, Ga.
Gentlemen: Have just sent you my first fifty yearly subscrib
ers. All have paid. Am ready for the extra premium, which
you give. Hope to reach one hundred soon. Respectfully,
MISS EDNA KNIGHTON.
This tells the story of the success of this young lady in her
work for The Golden Age. What she is doing others are do
ing, and still others may do. Only a few more weeks and the
college season begins. Let every Student Worker take courage
from the success of Miss Knighton and go forward in the work
of securing subscriptions for the great family weekly. The
work is easy and pleasant for those who have a mind to do it,
and The Golden Age takes pleasure in rewarding its successful
workers.
THE GOLDEN AGE, ATLANTA, GA.
I wish to thank the one who has kindly given me a
subscription to The Golden Age. It is a great pleas
ure to me, and I am delighted to see so many of
the old Household friends are with us in our new
home. It would add much to my happiness to hear
from some of our cheerful members, and should you
favor me by ordering one of my lovely little book
marks, we would become more intimately acquainted.
They are made of good satin ribbon with a picture
of myself printed on it; also, a sweet poem. The
book-mark is only 25 cents, and I should appreciate
your order. With best wishes from
REBECCA WHITFIELD.
Finleyson, Ga., Route No. 2.
UNITY OF PURPOSE.
First I want to thank dear “Earnest Willie” for
giving us this valuable space in his great paper,
for our heart to heart talks; for I am sure that it will
be productive of much good. I want to say just a
few words to our sisters about the great blessings
which have come to us, through Brother Cates in a
three weeks’ revival. More than a thousand pre
cious souls were “born into the kingdom,” but aside
from that, there was established a “unity of purpose,”
that of winning the lost, among the churches of dif
ferent denominations, which will result in the accom
plishment of great good. The “dead heads” in the
church were made to “see themselves as others see
them,” and a great many “pastor critics” silenced
One fact “pounded in” was this, “Prayer in your
pew, puts power in your pulpit.” May we not lose
sight of it. May Brother Cates be spared many years
to carry on this great work of his. Wishing the
Household the greatest possible success, I am,
Jackson, Miss. MRS. J. P. SMITH.
A HOUSEKEEPING MELODY.
Sing a song of cleaning house,
Pocket full of nails;
Four and twenty dust pans,
Scrubbing brooms and pails,
When the door is opened,
Wife begins to sing:
“Just help me move this bureau here, ,
And hang this picture, won’t you, dear?
And lack that carpet by the door,
And stretch this one a little more,
And drive this nail, and screw this screw,
And here’s a job I have for you—•
This closet door will never catch,
I think you’ll have to fix the latch;
And, oh, while you’re about it, John,
I wish you’d put the cornice on,
And hang this curtain; when you're done
I’ll hand you up the other one;
This box has got to have a, hinge
Before I can put on the fringe;-
And won’t you mend that broken chair?
I’d like a hook put up right there.
The bureau drawer must have a knob;
And here’s another little job—
I really hate to ask you, dear,
But could you fix a bracket here?”
And on it goes, when these are through
With this ami that and those to do,
Ad infinitum, arid more, too,
All in a merry jingle,
And isn’t that enough to make
A man wish he was single (almost) ?
CARRIE W. BRONSON.
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