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health run down they are compelled to give up their
employment, and are penniless.
I think Gwinnett Farmer is rather hard on us
girls. He doesn’t consider matters as he should.
Many a girl is simply forced to go to the city to
work, and if she stays in a lady’s place she is more
to be praised than condemned. I don’t believe God
evqr intended women should work as men. He made
women to manage the home with economy, taste
and grace, while he made men to provide for, shield
and support them.
I quite agree with Brown Eyes. Give me the old
fashioned way of courting. We are not obliged to
accept every man who proposes; but many women
do take the first offer just for the sake of getting
married. This is why so many marriages prove dis
appointing. ALLE OF ALABAMA.
*
SPARE US OUR IDEALS.
The iconoclasts are abroad in the land. “Down with
sentiment, down with superstition (including fairy
tales and Santa Claus), down with dreams and fan
cies, and ideals,” is their cry. Well, I for one will
not heed them. Carl Schurz says, “Ideals are like
stars; we cannot grasp them with our hands, but
we can follow them.” Let us cherish our ideals;
let us dream of better and brighter things—of a no
ble way of living—of universal love and brotherhood.
Let us believe that the millennial dawn is breaking;
that its herald trumpet is sounding on the higher
hills of hope and faith. The procession is advanc
ing; let us try to get in the band wagon, or at
least approach near enough to hear the music. Let
us do all the .good we can find to do, and don’t
be afraid to look around and hunt for it. I’d rather
know I had helped to heal one broken heart, encour
aged one despondent soul, led into the right path
one errant spirit than to have all the loud mouthed
fame in the world. God made man in his own image.
This applies to the soul and mind. Remember the
parable of the talents —and cherish and elevate your
ideals. DOCTOR NAT.
Waterford.
SOME TRIED RECIPES.
Old fashioned, but good—Queen of Puddings. Soft
en bread or biscuit in warm water. Take two cups
of the bread, two cups of sweet milk, one cup of
sugar, one-half cup of butter and 4, 5 or 6 eggs.
Reserve the whites of two eggs. Mix the other
ingredients and flavor with any extract desired.
Bake in a pan or pudding dish. When done, open a
mould of jelly, slice and spread on. Have ready
the whites of the two eggs beaten to a stiff froth
with two spoons of white sugar, mixed smoothly in.
Spread this on the jelly, put the pudding into the
stove until this is lightly browned. Serve in saucers.
Prince of Wales Cake. Whites of three eggs, one
cup sugar, two cups flour, one-half cup sweet milk,
one-half cup butter, one teaspoonful of cream tartar,
one-half teaspoonful of soda. For the other part
repeat but use yellows of eggs, one table spoon of
cinnamon pulverized, one grated nutmeg, one ta
blespoonful of syrup. Put all together in layers with
icing between. Raisins, nuts, etc., can be added in
the dark part if desired. MATTIE HOWARD.
Tuskegee, Ala.
n
HOW TO HAVE FLOWERS FOR WINTER
DECORATION.
How many of the Household friends have planted
hyacinths and narcissus bulbs in water for winter
indoor blooming? We are to have a wedding in our
home the last week in December, and mamma said,
“What shall we do for house and table‘decoration?
Hot house flowers are so expensive, we can’t afford
BEAUTIFUL OKLAHOMA
beautiful and best all-round country in the Union. The climate is delightful and healthful, the natural resources
are unlimited, and the soil rich and fertile. This accounts for the wonderful growth of the country; but its most
rapid development is still in the future. There Are Still Opportunities For All. If you have some spare money to
invest it will pay you to invest here. If you are looking for a new home, where health and prosperity will be your
experience, it will be wise to come here. In either case T. R. LASH & CO., Real Estate Agents
we will serve you, and insure you perfect satisiac-
tion. We are doing this for others, why not for you ? Baltimore Building - • - Oklahoma City, Okla.
When writing advertisers please mention The Golden Age
The Golden Age for November 14, 1907.
them.” We can have flowers—pretty growing flow
ers—at little cost, I told her. I had sold my last
winter’s suit for five dollars, and with part of the
money I bought hyacinth and narcissus bulbs, giv
ing thirty cents a dozen for the narcissus bulbs and
fifty cents for the hyacinths. I planted some of
them in little ordinary flower pots—one to a pot—
in rich soil and sand, but I put a number of them in
glass bowls to set on the table as decorations. Very
pretty glass salad bowls can be bought for ten
cents each. Put five or six narcissus bulbs in a bowl,
with small rocks or large pebbles about the roots
to keep them in place; then fill the bowl with water,
letting the water come up nearly half way the bulbs,
and set it in a dark warm place, for two or three
weeks; then bring them out on a sunny day and the
white stems and leaves will soon be green. Keep
them out of the cold, and they will bloom in from
six to eight weeks from the time of planting. The
hyacinth bulbs are planted in little glasses that come
for the purpose, one bulb to a glass. They make ideal
presents to give friends on Christmas, when in bloom.
If the bulbs are planted in small flower pots and
these are then covered with green, brown or pearl
gray crepe paper with ribbon near the same shade
tied around the pot at the top in a pretty bow
it adds to the beauty of the gift, but the glass bowl
or hyacinth glass needs no decoration of paper or
ribbon. Nearly every one knows the ancient Greek
legends or myths connected with the hyacinth and
the narcissus. That of the hyacinth is this: Hya
cinthus, a beautiful youth, was accidentally killed by
Apollo, god of music, with a quoit. From his spilled
blood there sprang the flower that bears his name.
Narcissus was the son of the river god Cephisus and
the nymph Liriope. The nymph Echo loved him,
but he repulsed her and Cupid punished him by mak
ing him fall in love with his own image mirrored
in the water. Not being able to reach the beautiful
image, he pined away and died. When Naiads came
to bury him they found only a flower —the narcissus—
where his body had lain. ALVA.
Americus, Ga.
It
A MAN AND HIS SHOES.
How much a man is like old shoes’
For instance both a sole may lose,
Both have been tanned; both are made tight
By cobblers, both get left and right.
Both need a mate to be complete;
And both are made to go on feet.
They both need healing; oft are sold
And both in time turn all to mold.
With shoes the last is first, with men
The first should be the last; and when
The shoes wear out, they’re mended new
When men wear out, they’re men-dead too.
They both are trod upon and both
Will tread on others —nothing loth.
Both have their ties, and both incline,
When polished, in the world to shine,
And both peg out. Now would you choose
To be a man or be his shoes?
Well, I wouldn’t choose to be either. I would
rather be a woman —a good sensible, affectionate
woman. The saying that no man is greater than his
mother is untrue—else there would be no progress.
But a man’s destiny is doubtless in the hands of
the mother who moulds him through her influ
ence. Every wise mother heeds the Scripture’s in
junction, “Spare not the rod,” and properly “tans”
her boy, that he may become strong in character and
fit to “last.” A strong character is one that possesses
“A fine sense of right
And Truth’s directness, meeting each occasion
Straight as a line of light, conscious that ho
A ‘sole’ possesses—which he must not lose.”
Alas that men made —like shoes —to go on feet,
should ever be made “tight” by cobblers, and grovel
in the gutter! Alas, also, that often through mistakes
and excesses, men “wear out” before their time! But
they need not be men-dead. Through faith and re
pentance men may rise “on stepping stones of their
dead selves to higher things.” Men too often are
“soled” usually by themselves. Faust sold himself
to Mephistopholes (a swell name for old Nick) at
terrible cost. What does it profit a man if he gain
the whole world and lose his own soul?
Some women mistake clothes for the man—the
guinea’s stamp for the coin, and “men are trod upon.”
The wise woman’s test of a man is character —not
money or fashionable attire. “I’d give my head to
know if I am as fine as a girl should be whom a fine
man loves,” says bright Nellie Lewis in “The Auto
biography of a Girl.” With shoes, the “last” is- first,
why so often with men should the first be last, partic
ularly in affairs of the heart? Perhaps the first love
is bashful and slow. If Puritan Priscilla’s clever
example of love making were more frequently fol
lowed there would be fewer spinsters and happier
wives. If allowed to choose her husband, few women
would make mistakes.
That men should be “right” and “left” is sadly
true. Not infrequently we see right feeling and
right acting men “left” in the mad race for money
and position. They are too right minded to stoop
to left-handed measures. They prefer to be left rath
er than to soil their honor and their conscience.
Both men and shoes are “nothing loth to tread on
others.” This happens in married life when those
bound by ties presumably of affection seem to take
actual pleasure in treading on each other’s feelings,
disregarding courtesy, much less love and kindness,
in the endeavor to have the last word or to “spite”
one another. Why should this be true in so many in
stances? Why is it that we give—
“ Our own the bitter tone, though we love our own
the best”?
It has always been a mystery to me. Every one
knows that the happiness of most people in this
world depends on harmony at home. Yet so few
cultivate the habit of politeness, and kindness in the
home. So many men and women are not loth to
tread on the hearts of those they should love and
cherish. So many little children grow up hard and
unlovely because in their homes the law of love —
of doing as you would be done by—was never carried
out. EMMA DeLAND.
Florida.
n
EVENTIDE ON THE FARM.
The hauntingly melodious voices of the darkies
float out in jest, laughter and snatches of song
as they come from the cotton fields at “weighing
time.” Dully, and irregularly, comes the thud of corn
in the trough, as the horses crunch their evening
meal. Out in the pasture lane the hogs grunt, con
tentedly, as they root among the husks. With low,
conversational clucks, the fowls flutter to their perch
es, while the air is buzzing with the sweetly monot
onous songs of many insects. Above all, comes the
rythmic throb of machinery like a perfect overtone
to the grand harmony.
Walled in by a half-fallen scuppernong arbor and
a patch of rustling cane, the dreamer lies, prone on
• the grass, and with rested eyes, and quieted nerves,
gazes up into the twilight sky, and wonders if earth
holds other scenes as peaceful, other sounds as
soothing. LEO.
Tennille, Ga.
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