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VOICES OF YOUTH
Conducted by the Editor
K CHILD.
Golden curls, red cheeks and bright
eyes,
Smiles like the smile, of a May sun
rise;
Little feet that trip down the spring
blossomed way,
And stray through the fields of the
beautiful May.
Down in the deep, old, mysterious
glen;
Laughs at the brook, and then
laughs again;
Talks to the birds and smiles at the
sky,
But the trees and the hill and the
sky are so high.
Up the old green hill, and the daisies
know
The child loves the place where the
flowers grow'.
High up on the hill; far below lies the
town,
Where the ills and the wrongs and
the dark clouds frown.
Down the old hill, and again by the
brook,
And plays in the squirrels’ favorite
nook.
Finds out the place where the rabbits
play.
Know's every place where the wild
bees stay.
And the trees and the hill and the sky
are high,
But the child has the light from the
smile of the sky.
And far. far away, lies the World of
the Real,
And near, near today, are the
strongholds of ill!
—Lawton Riley.
Atlanta, Ga.
Wtb ®ur Corresponbents
Dear Boys and Girls;
Did you think when you read Broth
er Willie’s letter last week that he
was “seeing things at night,” or that
he had dreamed about nice letters
from his boys and girls until his brain
w r as filled with hallucinations?
Well, I am going to prove to you
that neither w'as true; that my brain,
which truly has enough to tangle it
sometimes, w'as never clearer, for
those letters did exist. But unless you
had sometimes had the experience of
unconsciously turning over to a
printer more matter than could be put
into a certain amount of space, you
could hardly know just what it makes
one feel like saying—but—er—Broth-
er Willie, you know, mustn’t say
things. So, instead, he just smiled
over the way his letter must have
sounded to you and will see that you
get to read this week what was meant
for you last week.
And I want again to emphasize
Meddlesome Mattie’s call for those
bright voices that were heard among
our number some months ago.
This is your department and we
want it filled every week with bright,
newsy letters, telling of the dreams
and ambitions that fill your young
hearts; the plans you have made to
perfect those dreams, or, perhaps, the
disappointment of some cherished
plan that we may hely you meet it in
the way that is best.
In other words, we want this de
partment to be a great medium for
the interchange of the thoughts and
feelings that throb and beat in your
young hearts for utterance, or sym
pathy or achievement; that through
this interchange of the heart's deeper
waters you may be bound together in
a brotherhood of loving inspiration
and helpfulness to each other, that
our Savior means when he said, ‘ Love
thy neighbor as thyself.’
Remember, Brother Willie is going
to expect you to help him this much.
Let us hear from several of the old
band and some new ones next week.
REMINISCENT.
In imagination, I will turn time
backward in its flight and be a boy
again, just for tonight.
Could I now' call around me the
tow’ heads and freckled noses, w’ho
w'ere my playmates in the long ago,
methinks the love feast and experi
ence meeting would continue until the
rising of tomorow’s sun. Many of
those dear girls and boys have passed
over the river; others are scattered the
wide w'orld over. Some have risen
to fame and fortune; many are doing
reasonably well, and others, your un
cle Mat included, are well, we are
still here.
There have been many surprises;
some of the black sheep have climbed
high up on the ladder, W'hile some of
the most promising “kids” are now' at
the bottom. There is no foretelling
the outcome of a “measley” boy, or a
mangy colt. The race does not depend
so much upon the spurt at the start,
as upon the metal and mettle and the
get up and go, from start to finish.
Money and influential friends are
great advantages to a boy, but how
frequently do w r e see the well-groomed
and pampered colt, surpassed in the
long run, by the plug that had to
rough it? I have nothing to say
against the grooming; the more the
better in all cases. But no amount of
polishing will give the spurious stone
the intrinsic worth of the diamond in
the rough.
My son, if you have money and in
fluential friends, show your apprecia
tion of these advantages by making
the best of them. But these advanta
ges cannot make a man of you; they
only afford you greater opportunities
to make the best of yourself. If you
are a poor boy, without these advan
tages, it will require greater effort and
constant endeavor to succeed. Suc
cess does not come by the accident of
birth or the possession of wealth.
Earnest, constant endeavor to -accom
plish better things, lifts a man higher,
step by step.
No matter who or what you are, or
w'hat your environments, set your
mark high; have a noble purpose in
life, set it in your heaven of hope
as your soul’s bright star, and then
persevere to reach it.
UNCLE MAT.
“IN A MINUTE.”
"Tom, run here, quick; the cat’»
caught a bird,” screamed Tom's small
sister from the back yard.
Tom, putting down his toy engine,
ran as fast as his legs could carry him
to the back yard. He was only six
years old. He succeeded in snatching
the poor little English sparrow from
the cat, and carried it back to his
mother’s room
"Tom, you had better put the bird
out of the window before he hurts him
self flying about in this room,” said
his mother.
"I will turn him loose in a minute,"
said Tom,
The Golden Age for April 9, 1908.
"You had better do it now’.”
"In a minute, mother.”
Meanwhile Tom had turned the bird
loose in the room, letting it fly about
in the room, and then catching a when
it came in reach.
The bird, seeing a fire in the grate,
flew into it and was burned alive be
fore he could be snatched out by Tom
or his mother. Tom cried and was
very sorry the bird was burned.
Tom’s mother said, “Tom, if you
had obeyed me the bird W'ould not
have been burned up.”
Tom promised his mother that he
w'ould always obey here hereafter, and
would never say “In a minute,” and
he did. W. A. C.
Sandersville, Ga.
Hurrah for The Golden Age and
"Earnest Willie!”
*
A HORSEBACK RI DE—TWO GIRLS
FALL OFF.
Dear Brother Willie: I have read
with great interest the “Voices of
Youth,” and come now, asking if I
might blend my voice w’ith the other
youthful readers of this page, by giv
ing you an account of my last horse
back ride.
I had my little chum visiting me,
and we decided we would go horse
back riding one afternoon. And al
though mamma said we looked like
"two little monkeys on an elephant’s
back.” yet in our lofty position on
“Old Bess,” as she jogged along that
deserted country road, we felt as
proud as any tW'o heroines of a fairy
tale.
We W'ere enjoying our ride very
much until I just guess she got tired
of us, and the next thing we knew' w r e
W'ere lying over in a rock pile with
not much breathing power left.
We had no saddle on our horse, so
we had to drag ourselves along until
w'e could find a stump high enough
for us to crawl up on her again.
We were just rejoicing over the
fact that no one saw us, and of course.
W’e never intended to tell it, but my
mamma, like lots of other little folks’
mammas, somehow', always finds out
w'hat you don’t want her to know.
And feeling so secure in the fact that
no one knew of our downfall, you can
imagine my surprise wnen, a few days
later, mamma asked us how w r e felt
after our fall. My first words were:
“Mamma, how do you find out every
thing?”
Then she told me that the wood
chopper, who was near by in the
W’oods at the time, saw' us and had
come to inquire if we were badly hurt.
And just here I will say that from this
little experience I have learned a les
son that W'ill do me good all my life —
to make mamma my confidante, no
matter what comes. Now, what do
you think of my resolution?
Your little friend,
MARTHA STILL.
That is a good resolution, Martha
Still, one that entitles you to a place
among our boys and girls. I knew
a girl of fifteen to lay the first “love
letter” she evei’ received in her moth
er's lap, saying, “Mother, read that and
tell me what you think about it.” And
that girl told her mother all her se
crets as she grew' older. And thus
each increased the happiness of the
other. —“Brother Willie.”
“A RED-HEADED, FRECKLED
FACED GIRL.”
Dear Brother Willie: Here comes a
little red-headed, freckled-faced girl
you once knew away out in the coun
try. I wonder if you will remember
her? Just guess what I have been doing
today. No, I know you can’t, so I will
tell you—sitting down in the middle
of the floor reading oyer the young
people’s department of The Golden
PIMPLES WILL LEAVE YOU.
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F. A. Stuart Co.. 175 Stuart Bldg., Mar
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I. L. MADURO, JR.,
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SPECIALTIES in Colored Postals,
Souvenir Albums, Maps, Photographs,
etc. Postal cards mailed to any part
of the globe, with or without local
stamps.
AGENTS WANTED. WRITE FOR
TERMS.
Send SI.OO for 18 postals, assorted,
with stamps of Panama or Canal
Zone.
A TOKEN OF APPRECIATION.
In order to favor many out of work
or short of cash by reason of late
money panic, and as a token of appre
ciation for the liberal patronage which
brought eighty-five thousand nine hun
dred four dollars and eighty-five cents
($85,904.85) net profits to Draughon’s
30 Business Colleges during the past
four years, Draughon’s Colleges at At
lanta and Jacksonville are now offer
ing, for a limited time, SSO scholar
ship for $25. See further
elsewhere in this paper.
