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a little island not far off. He sees numbers of
drowning persons, among them some near of kin;
knowing that if he goes among them there will be
such a rush for his boat that all will be lost, he
steers clear of them all and reaches the island.
For awhile he lives in hope, but no ship comes to
his rescue. At length his food is spent. Starvation
begins. The dead bodies from the ocean are drifted
on the shore. He recognizes his loved ones who
cried to him for help. In agony he spreads his
blankets over their lifeless forms and dies a misera
ble death. MATTIE HOWARD.
»6
QUESTIONS ANSWERED.
Julia Stillwell says: “At a convention of the Wom
an’s Home Missionary Society I saw a lovely young
woman dressed something like a Catholic or Episco
pal sister who, they said, was a deaconess. Will you
kindly tell me about the deaconess; what are her
duties? What requirements are necessary in order
to become a deaconess? When was the office cre
ated? I never heard of it before.” The office of
deaconess was created by the Methodists in 1888.
A deaconess must not be less than twenty-three
years old, must be a member of the Methodist
church, single or a widow, must have a good English
education and have had two years’ probationary
service at a training school, the Scarratt Training
School, at Kansas City, being most desirable. The
duties of a deaconess are to minister to the poor,
to care for the sick, try to assist the orphan, seek
out the sinful and erring and endeavor to reclaim
them. In the slums she is exposed to danger and
insult. To lessen the risk, she wears as badge of
her order a black dress and a little black bonnet or
cap with white strings. This costume has always
insured her respect from the vilest men. The trou
ble about deaconesses is that they are so apt to
marry. Usually they are gathered in by the unmar
ried preachers.
Helen D. says: “On the top shelf of uncle’s library
of old books, I found a strange, exciting novel, ‘The
Mysteries of Udolpho.’ It was published 95 years
ago. I think it must be the first novel ever written.
The back was torn off and I do not know the au
thor. Please tell me; also, if he or she wrote any
other novels. This one is intensely interesting.”
“The Mysteries of Udolpho” was written by Miss
Anna Ward Radcliffe, who was born in London in
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The Golden Age for January 23, 1908.
1764. She wrote also, “The Romance of* the For
est” and “The Italian.” Like Udolpho, these ro
mances tell of wild adventure, haunted castles, thrill
ing escapes. Mrs. Radcliffe did not write the earli
est English novel. She was preceded by Samuel
Richardson, who published his famous story, Clar
issa Harlowe, in 1749. He was the inventor of the
story of domestic life and manners. He was fol
lowed by Fielding and Smollett, and by Miss Fanny
Burney, whose novel, Evelina, published anony
mously when she was a petite, childish looking girl,
created a great sensation in England.
16
THOSE SELFISH DAUGHTERS.
So much is said in praise of girls these days that
I hesitate to strike a jarring note in the symphony
of eulogy. But I sincerely hope what I say may do a
tiny bit of good in making the dear creatures think
a little about their home folks, particularly their
fond and ever faithful mothers whom they are apt
to impose upon with, I hope, unconscious selfishness.
I have no girls of my own—l have two boys, fine fel
lows, but far from perfect—but I have neighbors
who have daughters and I have been provoked often
by seeing how these dear, gentle women are worked
and worried by their thoughtless girls. For instance,
the girls will invite their chums to visit them often
at unseasonable times —in one case the mother was
just recovering from a serious spell of la grippe. The
boys are notified about the “visiting girl,” and they
proceed to give her a good time. But the good time
does not extend to the mother. No, indeed. Often
she has no maid, and she has to work and worry in
order to have things nice for her daughter and her
company. Extra cooking, dish washing, house clean
ing fall to her, and she must look neat and cheerful
through it all, for visiting girls have tongues. Now,
isn’t this reprehensible selfishness on the part of
the daughter? It is often done through thoughtless
ness, I believe, for the old couplet holds a universal
truth:
“Time to me this truth has taught, time so many
things revealing;
More offend from want of thought than from any
want of feeling.”
But girls should think. It will be too late when
the little mother, over-worked and over-worried,
sinks into invalidism. Do not invite friends for a
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visit of any length save at opportune times. And
do not let the burden of your company fall on your
mother. Help her in every household task; spare
her all the care and worry you possibly can. Show
your appreciation of her sacrifice, for you cheer
her with loving words and caresses. So shall you
prevent laying up self-reproach and remorseful mem
ories to follow you through life.
IDELLA CROSBY.
HE DID NOT BELONG TO ANYBODY.
“Not long ago,” said Dr. McElroy, “I witnessed
a pathetic incident. A child —a little boy five years
old —was hurriedly put on a train by a woman, who
had grown tired of keeping him. She told the con
ductor he was to go to the Orphans’ Home at Louis
ville, Kentucky. The little fellow was bewildered
and heartbroken. He had his ticket, but he had no
idea where he was to go; he was entirely alone.
‘I don’t belong to anybody,’ he said tearfully to the
passengers, who tried to soothe him. Presently, a
gentleman who was on his way to Louisville took
him by the hand and assured him that he would
see he got to the Home all right. The look of relief
that came into the big gray eyes of the friendless
child would have moved a heart of stone. God bless
the institutions that provide homes for the home
less orphans. I enclose a few lines, hoping that they
may call attention to the needs of these little ones
who feel that they do not belong to any one. We
are told in the Scripture definition of true religion,
that it is to minister to the widow and the father-
Iss and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.
“Gather them in. Think of your own loved children
Cast on the world with no one to provide—
Press home the thought in all its dreadful meaning,
Your boy, your girl, your household joy and pride.
“Sad are the lives with no home love to shield
them,
No care such as good parents fondly give,
Then let them feel your Christian love around them
For His dear sake, who died that we might live.
“Gather them in. The Savior bids his loved ones
Feed with the tenderest care these little lambs,
If as a tribute to His love and mercy,
You seek to please him, give to them your alms.”
S. A. McE.
11
