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motto, and do our best to live up to
them. We can raise the standard of
our true womanhood in this way, in
stead of lowering it. Who will help to
do this?
With best wishes to all ana trusting
you will accept your new friend,
“GWENNIE.”
Marietta, Ga.
It
SANTA’S SUMMER SUBSTITUTE.
Mary Hill.
The big city lay gasping in the sul
try heat of middle August and the
cool greenness of the little park made
it a haven of refuge. The man on the
bench pulled his hat down to shade
his eyes from the white glare and was
soon almost asleep. A day of sight
seeing in a strange city made quiet
and rest very welcome.
Voices on the other side of the big
caladiums soon aroused him though.
They were sweet voices, evidently
wearing their company tone.
“Do have some of the strawberry
ice cream, Rachel,” said one.
“Thank you, I believe I will. Won’t
you have some cherries? And these
caramels are de-licious —try some.”
“Thanks, and I’ll trouble you to pass
the cake, please.”
“Watch out, your Teddy bear is on
the table, —there, he’s scratched a flea
into the ice cream!”
At this astonishing statement the
man on the bench peered curiously
through the caladium leaves. He saw
no fashionable tea party,—instead,
were two scantily clad children, each
clasping in her arms a mangy puppy —
her Teddy bear! Upon a greasy pa
per the supper was spread —two crusts
of bread, a small onion. A rotten
orange, contributed by some garbage
heap, posed as a fruit centerpiece.
The man on the bench gazed in won
der. He thought of his own children,
doubtless at that moment playing in
the shady orchard, where luscious
fruits could be had for the mere gath
ering. He pictured the supper hour,
when each child would bathe its rosy
face in cold water fresh from the well
and go into the cool dining room to
such a delicious supper of rich milk,
pure butter, honey or fruit and home
made bread! Why, the fruit the chil
dren would gather to feed the pigs
was far more wholesome, doubtless,
than any these children had ever
eaten in their lives! If he only knew
their names, now, he’d show them real
fruit.
“Hello Rachel and Patsy,” called the
big policeman. “Don’t you let them
pups get on the flower beds. Under
stand?”
“Who are those little chaps, and
where do they live?” asked the man
on the bench. The policeman glanced
at the kind eyes of the questioner and
paused to reply: “That’s Patsy and
Rachel Calhoun —father was run over
by a dray last year. Mother does
scrubbing, but don’t seem to practice
much on them. Lives in that ram
shackle tenement on Tenth street. Got
three more children and another'
dorg.”
The man on the bench strolled from
the park to the confectioner’s on the
corner, stopping once at a fruit stand
on the way to buy a.-bag of cherries.
At his order the confectioner’s boy
placed on a tray two big saucers of
strawberry ice cream, a box of cara
mels and the bag of cherries. “Take
it to the two little girls with black
eyes and hair, and faces, you’ll see
sitting with two puppies under the big
clump of caladiums. Tell them Santa
Claus sent them, as I’m sure he would
if he had ever had the pleasure of
their acquaintance.”
The summer Santa Claus took out
his note book as he passed the ram
shackle tenement pointed out by the
policeman and wrote the number.
A few weeks later, in a big shady
orchard, far away in the country, a
happy family of boys and girls picked
baskets of the choicest apples late
peaches and pears, packing them care
fully in an immense box. The city
expressman smiled when he delivered
the fragrant box labeled, “Misses Ra
chel and Patsy Calhoun, from Santa
Claus —delayed order” —to the tene
ment home on Tenth street.
Rachel and Patsy smiled, also.
SINCE YOU ARE GONE.
Since you are gone,
There is no joy for me;
Life’s path is as dark as dark can
be;
And all my days go down upon a
sunless sea,
Since you are gone.
Since you are gone,
The brightest day is night;
Nothing can be gained with just my
feeble might,
I strive, but all in vain, for light,
Since you are gone.
Since you are gone.
The winds moan loud and strong,
The day is dark and long;
Life’s but a funeral song,
Since ypu are gone.
Since you are gone,
Earth’s way is cold and drear,
No joy can e’er again come near;
No pleasure’s thrill can reach me
here,
And yet, because I’ve known you,
And more because I’ve loved you;
I yet shall see you once again;
Then sight shall banish all the pain I
feel,
Since you are gone.
JULIA IVERSON LANE.
NOT RESPECTABLE MEN.
The young people of our land ought
to be educated into the proposition
that liquor-sellers are not, in any true
sense, respectable men. The idea is
altogether too prevalent that one can
be a very respectable man, and yet
remain in a business by which people
can become intoxicated. Os course,
every proprietor of a fashionable hotel
assumes that he is respectable, and
even more so than many who patron
ize his bar. There are liquor-sellers
who will not deign to associate with
the lower class of the patrons of their
bar. They regard themselves as being
far too “respectable” to do such a
thing. And not a few of these propri
etors are admitted into social circles
that are popularly considered to be
eminently respectable. This fact shows
the low conception which many people
have of true respectability. But look
at the question in its real light and
character. Think of the business as it
actually is. The rum-seller deliber
ately deals to young men that which
is directly and distinctly injurious to
their moral character. The young man
who begins to drink, even in the most
moderate measure, is entering upon a
career which is sure to harm both his
intellectual and moral nature. No
oeginner in intemperance has any
thought of becoming a confirmed sot,
and yet a vast multitude of young men,
many of whom come from good fami
lies, have become the worst of drunk
ards. And not only does the liquor
seller make drunkards, but he makes
criminals. He may say that he is not
at all responsible for the crimes which
the patrons of his bar commit, but the
fact is, very many of the crimes that
have been committed, were the direct
result of strong drink. Had it not been
for the sale and use of intoxicants the
crimes, in very many instances, would
not have been committed. Hence, I
say that the liquor-seller is indirectly
responsible for much Crime. Besides
that, think of the many fathers and
sons who are sent home drunk by the
vender of strong drink. Can it be
said, then, that any liquor-seller is
The Golden Age for September 9, 1909.
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SUCCESS BEGETS SUCCESS
Less than four years old as a legal reserve company, yet in that time
climbing to the top pinnacle of tae Southern Life Insurance Companies,
is the record of the
I
State Mutual life Insurance Company
OF ROME, GEORGIA
This phenomenal growth makes clear that the scheme of mutual pro
tection is the most popular, in fact, is recognized as the safest and
soundest investment in the world today.
Here is Record of Past Year’s Growth:
June 30, 1908 June 30, 1909 Amount Gained Percentage Gained
Admitted Assets $1,566,371.10 $2,337,577.52 $771,206.42 49 Per Cent.
Legal Reserve 1,440,683.32 2,068,581.97 627,898.65 44 Per Cent.
Net Surplus 81,107.49 204,657.85 123,550.36 152 Per Cent.
All Standard Policies Issued. Write us for full information or call
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State Mutual Life Insurance Company
C. R. PORTER, President. Head Office: ROME, GEORGIA.
respectable? Surely not. Then do
not show him respect.
C. H. WETHERBE.
For HEADACHE—Hick’s CAPUDINE.
Whether from Colds, Heat, Stomach
or Nervous Troubles, Capudine will
relieve you. It’s liquid—pleasant to
take —acts immediately. Try it. 10c,
25c and 50c at all drug stores.
A gentleman in Massachusetts, be
ing threatened with a contagious dis
ease, said to his little son, who, in an
affectionate mood, wished to embrace
him, “You musn’t hug me; you’ll catch
the scarlet fever.” Willie, standing
back, looked in amazement upon his
papa, who, by the way, is a pattern of
propriety, and quickly asked, “Why,
papa, who did you hug?”
13
