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I To sell the Dr. Hanx fimo’is "Perret Visior- |
I spectacles—finest on earth. State pr * occupy i
• lion. Dr.HauxSnectacis Co., Dey.; 195 It-Louis. •
White Wyandotte Eggs
For Sale
From Dusten strain. Eggs $2 for 15, $3
for 30. Stock for sale at all times. Agent
Prairie State Incubator and Brooder. H.
L. Flanagan, East Point, Ga. Atlanta
Phone 284.
TELEGRAPHY
Best equipped school south. Expert
management. Main line wires. Great
demand for Operators. Positions guar
anteed. Write for Catalogue.
AMERICAN TELEGRAPH SCHOOL
Box 745. Milledgeville, Ga.
Cabbage Plants—Finest Seed
All varieties, raised in open on islands of South
Carolina, the home of Cabbage. Will stand sever
est cold. Full satisfaction. Full count, and finest
results in headed cabbage. Express rates on
plants are low from Young’s Island, our shipping
point. All orders must have cash or money order
enclosed. Express and Telegraph office, Young’s
Island, S. C. Telephone and 1 ostoffice, Martin’s
Point, S. C. 1,000 to 4,000 at $1.50 per M. 5,000 to
9,000 at $1.25 per M. 10,000 or more at SI.OO per M.
Special prices on large lots to market gardeners.
E. P. McSwiney, Martin’s Point, S. C.
ATLANTA SCHOOL OF
TELEGRAPHY
_ Letter received from a large Railroad today says:
"How many operators can you furnish us in
March?” Enter now while demand is heavy.
Catalog free. A. C. BRISCOE, Prest., L. W.
ARNOLD, V.-P., Atlanta, Ga. F. P. JOHNSON,
Manager.
EXPERT PIANO TUNER
Formerly with Phillips & Crew Co.
Graduate of N. E. Conservatory, Boston
FIRST CLASS MUSIC FURNISHED
FOR ALL OCCASIONS
Address p. H. Forstmeyer, 139 Spring St.
Bell Phone Main 2724 L At anta 1998
Can Furnish Best of Reference
25 Beautiful Post Cards
In order to get agents in every town we will
send 25 Souvenir Post Cards including FINE
flower, hand paintings, FUNNY Comics, etc.
No two cards alike, retail in all stores 2 for 5 cts.
With your NAME WRITTEN IN GOLD on 10 of
them for 25 cts. in silver or stamps. If not satis
fied money will be refunded. Contract sent with
first order. Address HOME CARD CO., Box H,
Lexington, N. C.
Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup
Bas been used for over SIXTY-FIVE YEARS by
MILLIONS of MOTHERS for their CHILDREN
WHILE TEETHING, with PERFECT SUCCESS. It
SOO THES the CHILD. SOFTENS t he GUMS, ALLAYS
all PAIN; CURES WIND COLIC, and is the best
remedy for DIARRHCEA, Sold by Druggists in every
Eart of the world. Be sure aid ask for “Mrs. Wins
;w s Soothing Syrup,” and take no other kind.
Twenty-five cents a bottle. Guaranteed under the
Eo'>d and Drugs Act, June 30th. 19<>6. Serial Number
AN ORD AND WELL TRIED REMEDY.
Can Cancer be Cured? It Can.
We want every man and woman in the United
States to know what we are doing. We are
curing Cancers, Tumors and Chronic Sores
without the use of the knife or X-Ray, and are
endorsed by the Senate and Legislature of Vir
ginia.
We Guarantee Our Cures.
THE KELLAM HOSPITAL,
1615 West Main Richmond, Va.
MEDICINES.
MORPHINE and Opium Habits cured
painlessly at your home (for $10.00)
by entirely new method. No cure, no
pay. Write today. DR. G. W. PAT
TERSON, Suite 2, 82 Central Place,
Atlanta, Ga.
WE FURNISH first-class help of all
kinds in and out of the city on
short notice. If you need a pc sition,
call or write us, enclosing stamp for
reply. The Wide-Awake Employment
Co., Hustlers for the People, 720 Aus
tell Bldg., Standard ’Phone 2335, At
lanta, Ga. Mention The Golden Age
when writing to advertisers.
CO LORING
for selling seven 25c boxes “Merit”
Blood Tablets. 30 days allowed to
sell Tablets, return money and get
ring. Address “Merit” Medicine Co.
,Roo«n go i Clocimnotl. Ohio,
VOICES OF YOUTH
“ASHES OF ROSES.”
One of the first poems written by
Elaine Goodale Eastman —in her
twelfth year—was the beautiful lyric,
“Ashes of Roses”:
“Soft on the sunset sky
Bright dayiignt closes,
Leaving, when light doth die,
Pale hues that mingling lie —
Ashes of roses.
“When love’s warm sun is set,
Love’s brightness closes;
Eyes with soft tears are wet,
In hearts there linger yet
Ashes of roses.”
That poem was accepted and printed
in a leading magazine, and gave the
twelve-year-old singer light on the lit
erary road.
WHAT THE BIG FLOOD BROUGHT.
The Ohio rose at the rate of three
inches an hour, while tjie little tribu
tary rushed into the broad stream
like a torrent. The old man on the
deck of the shanty boat scanned the
horizon for a rift. After a brief ex
amination, however, he shook his head.
“Looks like it’s going to keep it
up for some time yet,” he grumbled
in a deep voice.
“Over there in the east, the clouds
do not look quite so dark, father,”
replied the girl sitting at ins side.
She seemed strangely out of place on
the old boat. So did her father, who
could not altogether disguise the re
finement of former days. Iney had
taken refuge on this house-boat be
cause their little farm was flooded.
“We were poor before, Nora,” he
again broke the silence; “but now we
are homeless. We’d have been drowned
like rats, if it hadn’t been for old Joe
getting us.”
Old Joe was strumming his banjo.
Well used to danger, he was not
afraid. To the accompanying splash
and rush of rain and river, he hum
med and strummed his favorite melo
dies, some gay, others sad. Present
ly he drifted into “My Old Kentucky
Home,” and the girl looked anxiously
at her father. His frown darkened
into a scrowl, and w’hen Joe’s song
ended with a flourish and the boatman
rose and went into the cabin below,
the old man growled:
“Yes, my old Kentucky home—mine
no longer!”
“Look at those logs drifting down,”
Nora remarked as sprightly as her
tears would permit.
He did not look. “The idea of
cheating a man out of his old home
stead; and by his old comrade, too,”
he muttered.
“Surely, father, the east is growing
much brighter.”
“Driving an old man from his home,
because he’s lost a scrap of paper.”
He shook his first, rose and stepped
out from under the canvas, regardless
of the rain.
The girl constrained him to come
back, but she could not prevent his
hot words.
“And I can swear I paid every cent
of it,” he continued. “That sickly
poltroon knows it, too. I hate him;
him and his whole family.”
“Father,” she pleaded, “perhaps he
is far less happy than you know. Be
sides, he is sick. And then, you know
that George is very different from his
father. George was always good to
us.”
“He is the son of the scoundrel who
cheated and ruined me; that is all I
care to know about him,” cried her
father furiously.
They were silent, he thinking bit-
The Golden Age for March 19, 1908.
terly of the past; she, dreaming, but
not very hopefully, of the future. Sud
denly Nora jumped up and gazed in
tently at an object which was being
swiftly borne down the smaller stream.
“A boat, father,” she exclaimed.
“Look at that boat! It is in danger
of being upset by the logs.”
The father looked, quickly rose to
his feet, and took in the situation With
eyes that age had scarcely made Idss
keen,
“The fool has lost his oars,” he mut
tered. “If the logs hit him, his nobby
boat will surdly keel over. Seems to
me I know him; do you?”
As he turned to the girl, he saw
that the color had left her cheek.
“It’s George, father!” she cried, as
he steadied her. “Don’t you know
him?”
The father looked again, just in
time to see the boat capsize. He had
recognized the face, however, and a
grim determination took possession of
his heart. This was the chance for
revenge for all he had suffered.
The girl’s shriek roused him from
his indifference.
“The current will sweep him right
by our boat, father. Quick, the rope!”
The father did not stir.
The girl dragged the coil to-the edge
of the deck; but it was a heavy rope,
and she knew she could not handle it.
“Father,” she cried, as she shook
him, “get ready to throw the rope.
He’ll be hurled against something and
sink before he can make the shore.’
The old man still stood as in a
trance.
“Father,” she pleaded, “if you love
me, you mus-t love him. Don’t you un
derstand?”
He started, and gave his child a
piercing look. Then he jerxed up the
rope, whirled it above his head, and
threw it, • just in time for the young
man to take hold.
It was not hard to draw George up
on to the deck. He was not a very
heavy man, and, besides, Joe now
came to the rescue. The girl’s shriek
nad awakened him out of his dreams.
When the sheltering canvas was
reacned, Nora proved that -cr words
had been true. Her father looked on
POSITIONS
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DRAUGHON’S
Atlanta, Jacksonville, Montgomery, Columbia, or Nashville.
Bookkeeping, Banking, Shorthand, Penmanship, Telegraphy, etc. Indorsed
by business men. Also teach by mail. Write, phone or call for catalogue.
30 Colleges in 17 States
Night and Day School
Genuine, Thorough, Up-to-Date. Life Scholarships or
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Not HOW SOON but HOW WELL
One-Third Off Regular Rates to March Fifteenth
The DIXIE BUSINESTCOLLEGE
(FACULTY FIVE EXPERT TEACHERS)
Write For Catalog No. 7. ATLANTA, GA.
with a strange mingling of hatred and
love.
“I came down the stream with the
intention of seeing you,” George be
gan to explain. “When I found your
farm flooded, I inquired and Was told
you had gone to old Job’s house-boat.
I suppose you can guess the rbst.”
“What do you waht?” the old man
growled, looking at his daughter, his
billy child.
George drank the hot coffee Nora
had quickly prepared for him.
“I came to tell you tnat father died,”
he answered, “and that he repented
before he closed his eyes. He told
me he had suffered a great deal. He
handed me the receipt, which he had
picked up and kept wnen one day you
dropped it. Here it is; he told me to
give it to you. And he asked me to
beg you to forgive him, and to think
of him as he was in the old days.”
The old man took tne paper with
trembling hand, and sat down. He
could not say a word.
George was taken into the cabin,
where he made the most of Joe’s
clothes. Presently, Joe came to tell
Nora and her father that the “young
feller” wanted to see them. The old
man waved consentingly at Nora, but
he did not go. Bitter and sweet
fought a great battle in his heart.
When he finally did stand on the
threshold of the cabin, he overheard
the lovers’ conversation.
“But now I am a poor man,” said
George; “do you want a poor man?”
The answer was not given in Words,
although it was distinctly audible.
When the old man turned to glance at
the sky, he saw that the sun was
breaking through the clouds.
IT MUST HAVE BEEN.
“Ah, yes,” said Senator Smugg, as
he interlaced his claws in a self-satis
fled way in front of his corporosity,
“I got my start in life by clerking in
a humble grocery store at a salary of
$3 per week, and managed to save
money on that.”
“But,” replied the astute reporter,
“that, of course, was before cash reg
isters were invented.” —Puck.
