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she exclaimed, “This must be Tenneeseean. You see
I came along, too.” Os course she received a hearty
welcome. The next lady to step out of the car was
taller, very stylish and fine looking. We did not
need to guess this time, as Lomacita gave us an
introduction to our brilliant Julia Coman Tait. We
were more than delighted to meet her, but our
attention was taken up at the time in watching a
little lady just behind her, who moved with a quick
and vigorous manner that might well belong to a
miss of twenty, and we knew at once that we were
in the presence of our Mrs. Bryan at last.
It being near noon we spoke of going to the hotel
for dinner before starting for the mountains, but
the guests assured us they had an abundance to eat
with them; that they would prefer to be going and
we could stop and have our first picnic by some
mountain spring. We had anticipated something of
the kind, so we had brought along some common
country supplies too, conspicuous among which were
fried chicken, jelly, pies, cake, and real home-made
pickles not long from the vines.
Soon we were ready to proceed on our way and
while we were getting the mules to the hack, we
were very much surprised to have Lomacita take hold
and assist us as though she had been accustomed
to help about such work. On cur making some
remark to that effect, she replied that she always
tried to make it a point to “Be useful as well as
ornamental,” and as she w r as used to saddling her
mustang pony when she chose to do so, she was, in
a measure, accustomed to such work. The time
that seemed to drag so heavily in the morning as
we drove to the station seemed very snort now.
With inquiring how each one had spent the summer
and listening to Mrs. Bryan tell of different ones
of her Household band, the time slipped rapidly away
and we found ourselves at Holly Lodge at the foot
of Mount Watson. The company tent being only
large enough for two cots, Mrs. Bryan was given a
bed in the front room of our “shack” and a ham
mock and a cot made the rest of us comfortable
enough for campers.
The old adage, “Early to bed and early to rise,”
etc., is closely followed out here in the mountains by
the people and we find it a delightful change for us.
After listening to our friend Julia talk of books
that she had recently read and accompanying Loma
cita on the flute as she whistled (my, but she can
whistle, though!) we went to bed and to pleasant
dreams.
On the following morning we decided that the
day should be spent at Rocky Falls, which are about
a mile from our camp on Ball Play creek.
As the big mules were busy hauling lumber to
the railroad, we hitched “Old Tom,” an odd mule,
to the hack and made him take the provisions for
the picnic and a part of the company to the place
where we spent the day.
We can not begin to describe the grandeur of
those falls, but when we consider them in comparison
with Niagara, while they may not be really as grand,
yet in proportion to the size of the creek I think
that they compare very favorably and am inclined
to believe they are ahead a little. We are sure the
scenery is far more grand. We agreed to tell our
friend Julia all that we knew about the different
plants and trees if she, in turn, would tell us some
of the latest books she had read. We also made a
compact with Mrs. Bryan that we would not “talk
shop” to her during the day and she rewarded us
by telling of her younger days, of how she came to
write her first book and of her emotions as it was
being published and when she saw the first copy.
We inquired very particularly in regard to the
obstacles that one is likely to encounter when getting
Sam Jones' Two Great Books
Everybody everywhere wants to read the sermons of Sam Jones. We have secured two of his best books. They are
’’Quit Your Meanness* - • • Price, $1.50
e *Sam Jones’ Own Book” - - - Price, $1.50
We are prepared to make our readers a most attractive offer. We believe this to be the best value we have yet
offered you ;we will send you for $2.25 The Golden Age one year, and your choice of these books. As a large number
of our subscribers have already taken advantage of this offer, you should act very quick y before our supply of the
books is exhausted. Should you wish both these books, send us $3.25, and they will go forward promptly and The
Golden Age will visit you every week for one year. Address
THE GOLDEN AGE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Atlanta, Georgia
The Golden Age for August 20, 1908.
a book before the public. We have the manuscript
for one, filed away in a private drawer and it has
been there for a number of years, because we have
not had the courage to have it published.
We spent hours talking to Lomacita of a cherished
plan of establishing a kind of a Chautauqua out here
in these grand old mountains, near and in sight of
the Rocky Falls.
We showed her the cold spring nearby and a
beautiful place for the hotel and grounds and sites for
the other buildings needed in such an enterprise. We
showed her how lovely drives might be made about
over the mountains and across ravines and she was
all enthusiasm and we are sure that no one could
have been more interested and could have asked
more practical questions and given more good advice
in so short a time. She took the matter up as
though it pertained to the enterprise that she has
been giving her attention to this summer. We gained
a good deal of information that will be valuable in
case w T e can get the members of the Household to
believe that a summer resort right here in these
mountains would be just the thing and that we need
it so that we can get together once a year, at least,
and enjoy one another.
It is so central and so easy of access; one can
step off the train and be whirled away by hack
or a four-horse stage through the foothills and moun
tains and landed without fatigue where he can have
all the common comforts of life and at a price that
all can afford.
I was thus dreaming and building air castles, when
She called me and told me to hurry and get some
fruit in the house, that she had on the scaffold
trying. We made haste and succeeded in getting all
gathered up and safely indoors when the rain began
to pour and my day dream became a thing of the
past. Yet how I should like to realize it all.
TENNESSEEAN.
K
AFTER THIRTEEN YEARS.
Thirteen years ago two boys in their teens, under
anarchist influence, it is believed, killed the mayor
of Kinsley, lowa. They were sentenced to death,
but the Kansas law requires the signature of the
governor to a death warrant and all recent governors
of Kansas have refused to sign death warrants. The
boys have grown to manhood in the prison at Lan
sing. Last month they were released from prison.
They owed their release in large part to the follow
ing poem, written by one of them, Carl Arnold. In
the New York Herald appeared an interesting story
of young Arnold and his literary work in prison,
and one who reads the story can hardly fail to share
in the governor’s sympathy and to rejoice in the
pardon he has issued. The poem is called:
Man to Man.
I can not fawningly implore
As feeble, false hearts can,
But in humility before
The power that bars my prison door,
I plead as man to man.
Oft folly more than vice appears
In errors we have made.
The ideal that the man reveres
Is not the dream of early years—
Youth’s brief delusions fade.
Though hearts embittered still retain
A grudge for old mistakes,
Excessive penalties are vain,
The long monotony of pain
No restitution makes.
The ancient “eye for eye” decree
God has Himself destroyed;
Still speaks that voice from Calvary,
Shall Shyloeks with their ghoulish plea
Make this commandment void?
Aye, blessed are the merciful!
Oh, Christian heart, relent!
F’or sins of folly, faults of will
1 kneel at mercy’s tribunal,
A contrite penitent.
Long have I been with Sorrow. Long
The agonizing years,
Have held no freight of love, and song,
And laughter; only pain, and wrong,
And penitence, and tears.
The coarser soul but lightly feels
The daily dole of ill,
But what distress each hour reveals
For him who in his heart conceals
Some aspirations still!
For home and love and liberty
We toil as free men can.
Oh, hand of fate, that bars to me
The gates of opportunity,
I plead as man to man!
*
WHAT THEY WOULD DO.
“When Dr. Henry Van Dyke, of Princeton, was
a little chap,” said a gentleman recently, “I went to
school with him. One day before school closed for
the Christmas holidays we expected a visit from
a certain director. This director always questioned
the children about one thing—namely, what they’d
do in case of fire. So the teacher coached us all the
morning before he came, preparing us finely on the
course to be taken if fire should break out.
“Well, sure enough, the director called, but when
he got up to address us he said: ‘lt is good to be
here at this jolly Christmas season among so many
rosy, smiling faces. You are a very bright looking
iot of children and I wonder what you would do
now if I were to make you a little speech on the
best way to celebrate Christmas?’
“Quick as a flash young Van Dyke piped out:
‘Form in single file and march out quickly.’ ”
DON’T MARRY A MAN TO REFORM HIM.
Hundreds of women have married drunkards with
the idea that they could help them reform. The.
plan does not succeed once in a hundred times.
If a man has the moral strength to reform he
can do it before marriage, instead of running the
risk of dragging a woman down to want and misery.
The man who says to a girl, “Marry me, and I
am sure that with your help I can reform,” is a
coward.
He has no right to shift the responsibility of his
reformation to other shoulders.
That, is a burden and a fight that he must carry
alone. Through his own moral stamina and
strength of will he must win the battle.
When a girl finds that the man whom she has
grown to love is addicted to drink, she can help him,
with love and sympathy, but she commits a grave
error if she marries him unless his reformation is
complete. She has no right to marry and bring
children into the world handicapped by the curse
of a drunken father.
Where the head of the home is a drunkard there
is squalor, want, misery. The wife and children are
neglected and wretched. * * *
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