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TT TTP T T Z~\ TT Q T7' TTZA T TA Conducted by
I J. P / J. 1 O ■ > I 1 I j I z Ada Louise "Bryan
A Department of Expression Tor Those Who Teel and Think.
HER MEANING.
When a request she makes which he
The way to grant can not well see,
And so most gently vetoes it,
She gives her little head a toss,
And curtly says in accents cross,
“Oh, very well!” '
But truth to tell, ’’
She means it is not well at all.
When she and he fail to agree
And have an argument, and he
His views most plainly does disclose.
She looks at him with scornful eye,
And sharply stops him with the cry,
“Now, that will do,”
Which words, though few,
Means it don’t do at all, he knows.
When he corrects some slight mistake,
Such as at times the best will make,
Instead of keeping calm and cool,
She curls her lip in mocking sneer,
And very pertly says, “Oh, dear,
You are so smart!”
Which language tart
Tells him she means he is a fool.
—HENRY WALDORF FRANCIS.
*
CHAT.
Dear Friends of the Household: It was worth
While to be ill just to receive the many good letters
and messages that came to me from friends I have
never seen, but love nevertheless. How kind you
were! Those who did not write sent me helpful
thoughts I know, for when I began to get better, I
convalesced so rapidly, and it was not long before
I could sit in the buggy beside M. E. B. while she
drove out into the country, over the red hills and
through the fragrant piney woods that I had not
seen in so long. How beautiful the world looked.
The sparrows, the rabbits, the little brown quails
scudding over the dry leaves —I felt I love them
all. One never realizes how lovely the world is and
how good it is to live until sickness shuts out the
blue sky and dear trees and pleasant sunshine for
long weeks. I thought often of the shut-ins and
their lives so narrow, deprived of so much that
more fortunate ones enjoy. Let us remember these
dear shut-in friends, particularly those of our House
hold —Thomas Lockhart, of Wellington, Missouri,
who has lain on his mattress immovable as marble
for twenty-three years. He asks that his friends
give him a letter party on Christmas, and I hope we
will all remember his request; also, there is dear
Annie Peavy, of Peavy, Alabama, who writes so
gracefully and keeps her heart sweet and loving
through years of suffering that might embitter a
saint. Thomas Brock is another of our Household
members whose lot it has been to sit in the shadow.
Any word of cheer or small token of remembrance
to these children of our Father is a ray of sunshine
in their shadowed lives. Thomas Lockhart, of Lex
ington, Missouri, although he is an ossified man,
has managed (with two partly good fingers) to write
a number of interesting books, among them his own
life, and a thrilling, dramatic, yet uplifting novel.
These he sells to try to be self-supporting.
I have been up to the city, busy, wide-awake At
lanta, since I left the sick room, and oh, the Christ
mas shoppers! How some of them push and glare
at each other in the crowded stores. They remind
ed me of Julia Coman Tait’s arraignment of our sex.
as selfish and aggressive. I am afraid there is a good
deal of truth in it, but also there is much truth
in the things that Julia Charter has said in our de
fense. I cordially welcome Julia Charter, Old Wo
man, S. M., as new comers. Ben Ivy answers Eu
genia and stands by his original proposition. Ben
will find a harder opposer in the clever and lively
foe that struck her lance against his last week.
Marian asks the Householders to tell about the
laughs that have done them most good. I can sym
pathize with her in getting into scrapes sometimes
through being overcome with the laughing mood.
By the way, did you ever notice the great variety
of laughs there are and how few of these are mu
sical? It is rarely one hears the joyous, silvery
laugh we read about. Again thanking you for your
kind letters, messages and Household contributions
and hoping you will let the Household hear from
you oftener, I am, Yours faithfully,
ADA LOUISE BRYAN.
The Golden Age for December 12, 1907.
Wtb ®ur Gorreeponbente
POEMIZED EXPOSITION OF THE TWENTY
THIRD PSALM.
By Mayme Miller.
The Lord is my shepherd: I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths
of righteousness for his name’s sake,
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow
of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with
rfie; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence
of mine enemies: Thou anointest mine head
with oil: my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the
days of my life: and I shall dwell in the house
of the Lord forever.
The sweet singer, David, tending his flocks among
the vine-clad hills of Judea, was inspired to sing
a sweeter song than he knew in the 23d Psalm.
Through the simplicity of his rustic shepherd life,
so close to the great throbbing heart of nature, he
was led to see and feel the bounteous grace and
mercy of the Divine Shepherd, hence he wrote the
psalm out of his own inspired heart, in the simple,
telling language of a Hebrew poet.
Oh, the fullness of the song, so rich with the
melody of grace, so sweet with the melting tender
ness of sheltering love and mercy!
Note the strength of the first brief stanza, “The
Lord is my shepherd: I shall not want.” Catch the
philosophic spirit in the reasoning that follows:
I shall not want rest or food. Why? “He maketh
me to lie down in green pastures.” My fold shall
be high on the mountains —protected, where mine
eyes may feast upon the “hills from whence cometh
my strength”; my food shall be fresh and pure—
the very best.
“I shall not want drink.” Why? “He leadeth me
beside the still waters”—the tranquil waters of eter
nal life, away from the restless, feverish dreams of
this transient hour.
I shall not want help in my wanderings. Why?
“He restoreth my soul” when it slips away from
Him.
I shall not want a guide. Why? “He leadeth me
in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.”
I shall not be afraid even in the “valley of the shad
ow o fdeath.” Why? “Thou art with me.”
I shall not want correction, support or comfort.
Why? “Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.”
I shall not want protection from mine enemies.
Why? “Thou preparest a table before me in the
presence of mine enemies.”
I shall not want any good thing. Why? “My
cup runneth over.”
I shall not want mercy at any time. Why? “Sure
ly goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days
of my life.”
I shall not want a home. Why? “I shall dwell in
the house of the Lord forever.”
I shall not want rest, food, drink, help, guidance,
company, correction, support, comfort, protection,
mercy, a home, or any good thing. Why? Because
“The Lord is my shepherd.”
Charlotte Murray has given us a most soulful and
touching rendering of the Twenty-third Psalm. Its
sweetness and tenderness can not fail to soothe the
storm-tossed soul of this busy age.
The Lord is my shepherd, oh, the bliss of resting
Within the care of one who loves so well;
Who knows each pathway, understands each danger,
Whose tenderness, no tongue can tell.
I shall not want, for He I know will give me,
From day to day the very help I need;
The strength for working in life’s busy places,
Or grace for resting on its daisied mead.
He maketh me lie down when I am weary:
For well He knoweth when the way is rough;
And so He says to me with loving firmness,
“Be still, my child, for thou Tiast toiled enough.”
And then He comes himself and watches o’er me,
To aid my weakness by His perfect strength;
Until I almost love the forced seclusion,
And learn to thank Him for His rest at length.
His loving kindness far surpasseth language;
For when I rise to journey on;
He leadeth me in scenes of richest beauty,
And never lets me take one step alone.
Restoreth —He leadeth up some glorious mountain -
And if I ever wander from His side,
He findeth me, and I just learn that safety
Belongs to those who in His care abide.
And so we journey on; the paths He chooses,
Are often not what I should think the best;
But then he knows the way and loves me dearly,
And in that knowledge I have perfect rest.
Yes, even when I pass right through the valley,
All dark with death’s grim shadows crowding near;
His rod and staff give me the needed comfort,
Whilst he is with me to support and cheer.
And when foes arise to stay my progress,
He nerves my arm and cheers me for the fight;
What can I therefore do but conquer grandly,
And thank him for the way he kept me right?
My cup of mercy is running over,
And I am rich, possessing such a friend;
Whose arm doth never fail; who changeth never,
Who, loving once, will love until the end.
So thus the hours pass by, and I am singing
Os mercy and of goodness all the way;
For well I know my Savior will not leave me,
But guide me safely onward day by day
Until I reach my Father’s house in glory;
Where He stands waiting at the open door,
With arms outstretched to give me warmest welcome
And bid me dwell with Him forevermore.
*
ARE WOMEN INFERIOR?
Julia Coman Tait is a brilliant writer, but in her
strictures on her own set in The Golden Age House
hold, I think she is not just to women. She judges
of them too sweepingly. What may be true of <»
few need not be true of women in general. And
if women are selfish and take narrow views, is it
not because of their narrowed lives which they or
their mothers lived in the past? Qualities are inher
ited, and all the traditions of women are narrow.
But women are rapidly growing out of the tram
mels of tradition, they are fast broadening in thought
and motive as their sphere of life and action widens.
It is said that in those states where woman’s suffrage
is established, women have showed a great advance
in breadth of view and ideas of honor. Judge Lind
say, of the famous juvenile court, says: “Many good
laws have been obtained in Colorado which would
not have been secured but for the power and influ
ence of women. As to the election frauds in a few
of the precincts, I say emphatically these were due
to men voters, not to women. Had the matter been
left entirely to women not a corruptionist would
have been elected.” This speaks well for the ad
vance women have made in their ideas of honor and
justice. Dear Julia Tait, don’t look only at women’s
little shortcomings, think how rapidly they are de
veloping; think what great good they are doing in
removing those black blots on our state and govern
ment —licensed liquor selling and licensed child slav
ery- JULIA HARRISON CHARTER.
*
SCHOOL FOR FEEBLE-MINDED CHILDREN.
In the old days when a child was especially back
ward to learn and dull of mind, he was regarded as
an unfortunate” and no money or care was wasted
on him: It is very different in these ‘days of thought
and care for all humanity. There are homes for
feeble-minded children and idiots where they are
taught with so much patience and gentle, wise per
sistence that often the feeble mind gathers strength
to grow out of its sheath of dulness. Children who
in the so-called good old days, would have grown
up miserable, helpless, useless objects are, by wise
and scientific methods, developed into useful and
happy citizens. While I was in England one sum
mer, I visited the Haddonfield training school for
backward children. It was a large country house
set in beautiful grounds. All was sunny, cheerful
and homelike. The bedrooms were tastefully fur
nished with bright carpets, white curtains, pictures
and ornaments. The dining-room was large and
sunny. The little tables scattered over it were cov
ered with spotless cloths and set with pretty, deli-
