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isn’t. It is full of variety and of a
bright optimism that can but please
and uplift. “Plain Talks and Tales,”
is a book of short humorous sketches,
alternating with familial’ talks to young
people about matters concerning their
every day lives. This book is called
by the critics, “Highly entertaining,
delightfully optimistic and full of wise
counsel.” Its price is forty cents.
“His Mysterious Way,” is an illustrated
story, clean, pure and said to be thril
lingly interesting”; price, fifty cents.
Some of you may have read these
books, but order one any way and
give it to a friend. You can then help
two persons at the same time. I
surely need your help, as every thing
is getting to be so high-priced, that
even a well man can hardly make a
living. When ordering books, address,
THOMAS A. LOCKHART.
Wellington, Mo.
8?
HOW A SUIT WAS WON BY A
SONG.
Judge Sevier, of Kingston, Ten
nessee, had his own original meth
ods in the court room as in private
life. Never was a man more rich in
resources or more magnetic in his na
ture. An instance of his peculiar “way”
is the manner in which he defended
a suit some years ago. Two men, who
had been life long friends, fell out
about a matter, trivial in itself, but so
augmented by the grievous words
that stir up wrath that it had at last
to be settled in the supreme court at
Kingston, Tennessee. The lawyer for
the plaintiff had made a wordy speech
and now it was Judge Sevier’s turn
to speak on the defendant’s side. He
stepped out before the bar in the
crowded court room, and taking in the
tw r o disputants with a half humorous,
half wistful glance, sang this verse of
a well known song:
“You shan’t play in my back yard any
more;
You shan’t climb my apple tree;
You shan’t slide down my cellar door;
For I won’t love you if you don’t
love me.”
A deep hush went through the crowd
when the song ended; and when Judge
Sevier stepped forward and put his
client’s hand into the hand of the
plaintiff, a prolonged cheer arose as
the two old friends stood side by side,
smiling at each other with tears in
their eyes.
The suit was settled at once, and
the two reconciled men "went out of
of the court house hand in hand. As
for Judge Sevier, the entire crowd in
sisted on shaking hands w’ith him.
This is but one incident out of many
that I could relate, if our mater cares
for her Household to hear them. No
wonder Judge Sevier was called the
friend of all men.
ANNICE LYBARGER.
AT BABY’S GRAVE.
The radiance of the Sabbath sunset
was filling all the world with glory.
The calm of the sleeping dead seemed
to have crept into the air, for not a
sound, not the trill of a bird, the
hum of a homing insect, disturbed the
perfect peace that lingered over this
beautiful “City of the Dead.” The
bustle and noise of the town w r as far
removed from this quiet and sacred
spot, and no breeze brought the faint
est echo of the human restlessness
and toil that lay outside the graveyard
:gates. The yellow fields of golden-rod
E«zema Seven Years —Cured by Tet
terine.
"1 had Eczema on my chest for seven
year*, and the torture was almost un
bearable. One of your salesmen offered
to pay/ for the Tetterine if it did not cure
me. I used less than three boxes and am
Jjsjjar-ely well.”
Clem Kinard, Ruffin, S. C.
Tetterine cures Eczema, Itching Piles,
JDandruff. Ring Worm and every form of
•Scalp and Skin Disease. Tetterine 50 c;
■Tetterine Soap 25c. Your druggist, or
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Siruptrfate Co,, Savannah, 6a.
beyond the hedge stood erect and
noiseless in the still September air.
The toll of the big bell in the tower
yonder had long since died away, and
one by one the visitors had passed
through the great iron gates, once
more leaving the lowly sleepers to
their undreaming repose. All but two
who lingered loth to leave.
The last rays of the sinking sun,
pouring through long labyrinths of
forest trees, fell athwart the bowed
head of the young mother who still
knelt beside her baby’s grave and lit
up the sad face of the young father
who stood, wfith folded arms and un
covered head, at the foot of the little
mound, living in the past once more,
hearing again his baby girl’s merry
prattle and laughter as she ran to
meet him, when he neared his home at
eventide. Now the words, “Alene,
Aged 2 1-2 years,” was all that was left
to tell the story. The sense of loss
was heavy upon him and big tears
blinded his eyes, as the sobs of his
young wife reached his ears. He knew
that, even more than himself, she felt
this aching void in his heart, this long
ing for the touch of baby hands and
lips. Silently, he stood while the
mother knelt, both rehearsing the
events of that short life of the little
child who had only been lent them
for a time —how brief a time, alas!
How sweet she was —their little Alene,
with her winsome baby ways, how pa
tient even in the last days of her ill
ness, when she would smile a greet
ing in the midst of her pain. How
hard it was to see her fade away into
that “Great Unknown.”
The childless father raised his head
and looked away to where the sunset
splendor glorified the fading day. In
fancy through the billowy folds of the
radiant clouds he saw the face of an
angel—the face of his lost child. A
smile lit up his sad countenance for a
moment and a strange sweet peace
stole in his heart. It was baby Alene!
Surely hers was peaceful sleep, for in
the arms of the Good Shepherd, there
could be nothing but sweet repose for
the lambs of his fold.
Oh! the reflection which comes to
us by the graves of our dead! There
we lose all thought of earth, its bat
tles and temptations, there more than
anywhere in all the world we come
in close touch with our Creator, and
our hearts grow tender, our thoughts
lose their earthiness, life’s vanities
and pursuits sink into insignificance
at this meeting place of God and man.
From a visit to the grave of a loved
one we should come away ennobled,
strengthened, better equipped to meet
our daily trials, and with a heart in
harmony with all our kind.
The September sun sank lower
down the brilliant western sky. Still
the young parents lingered by the
small mound. There was something in
expressibly sad and sweet in their at
titude. What possibilities for a paint
er were in this touching picture
should he convey it to the canvas and
call it “ At Baby’s Grave.” It would
be a sorrow embodied, yet there would
be much of healing in it for those who
gazed upon it. The crushed maternity
in the sad, white face of the young
mother, the loving way her fingers ca
ressed the flowers, waving above her
little one’s resting place, the haunting
look of pain in the father’s eyes would
make a picture which thousands of
men and women would weep over, yet
would be better, richer, for having
looked upon.
Slowly the sun sank out of sight.
The shadowy twilight stole over the
scene. The whistle of a passing
train aroused the mother from her sad
reverie and she got up with a start.
A moment she stood and gazed on the
small grave, her look expressing in
tense yearning, then she joined her
husband, and after turning for another
look, she moved toward the great
gate*, her arms empty, her heart unsat-
The Golden Age for November 18, 1909.
p READ MY FREE OFFER I
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sister, your mother, or any ailing friend a full Cfty-cent box of Balm of Figs ebso- k 'J -F ''i
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9 Uterine Displacements, Ovarian or Uterine Laniers Hg H
ES or Growths, or any of the weaknesses so common to women. j
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fig Balm of Figs and lam willing to prove my faith by sending out jgSMsjajftr If. '
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9 past experience, write to me at once—today — and I will send
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9 Convincing as the actual test of the article itself Will you give
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[ MRS. HARRIET M. RICHARDS. Box 248 D, Joliet, Illinois.
NO CURE NO FAY
Good for PILES, ITCH, ECZEMA, BURNS, SCALDS, OLD SORES, ETC.
//) “Waycross, Ga.
))) Less than half a box of your salve cured a case of chronic p’les I had been suffering
))) from 12 years. E. J. BELL.” (((
111 For Sale by druggists or mail, 25 cents. (((
G. e. HAGGARD Dept. E3. WAYCROSS, GA.
A GUARANTEED CURE FOR
SORE HEADED CHICKENS
In any form. We Guarantee Every Box or Your Money Refunded
Ask your Druggist for a box of it, if you are unable to get it, send Twenty-five
Cents in Stamps to
F. B. CRAYTON, Department A, ANDERSON, S. C.
SSFACTORYPRICES 0
No matter where you live we can save you big money on your
purchase of a piano or organ. Factory prices are from $25 tosso
lower on organs, and from $75 to sls'J lower on pianos. We can
save you theseamonnts for we are factory agentsand sei! direct
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_ and profits. If it is not convenient
for you to pay cash in full we can &
make you the easiest terms you a
ever heard ot. feb/I
p ■ | write for Our Easy-Payment
( Offer.
You can pay, say $lO down, and the
balance in monthly or quarterly payments to suit your conven
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are paying for it. The payments are so small that you hardly
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ting the factor y Piioe.
let Us Sead Catalogues To-Day.
Tell us whether you want an organ or a piano and we will send
y° u illustrated catalogue and prices, also our Easy Payment
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Write for full particulars. You will be more than pleased
C S with the saving and our splendid instruments.
CORDELE MUSIC & SUPPLY CO.. CORDELE. GEORGIA.
isfied, yet strangely comforted, for she
knew that.
“God calls our loved ones, but we lose
not wholly
What he hath given,
They live on earth in thought and deed,
As truly as in heaven.”
JULIA COMAN TAIT.
Memphis, Tenn.
HE WAS READY.
An express train was wrecked on the
way to the Pacific coast. The presi
dent of the railroad company was on
board and hurried to the front, where
the engineer, faithful to the last, was
pinned down, helpless and dying, un
der the wreck of the engine. Bending
down to the prostrate man, he heard
him repeating to himself through his
agony, “I know whom I have believed,
and am persuaded that He is able to
keep that which I have committed unto
Him against that day.”
The president was profoundly mov
ed. “Jim,” he said, “I would be wil
ling to give my life, with all that I
have, for such faith as that.”
“Ah sir,” answered the dying engi
neer, “that is just what it costs!”
This brave engineer meant that he
had given his life into the hands of
his Savior, and had served him with
all his heart. This was why he was
not afraid, though he knew he had
not long to live. This was what kept
him bravely at his post through all
the years that he had driven an en
gine through long tunnels, and along
the rocky mountain sides. He was
always faithful and vigilant, yet he
knew that there was One who was
“able to keep that which he had com
mitted unto him” —his soul and his
life. This made him ready for what
ever might come. Wasn’t it grand to
be always ready—like that? —Ex-
change.
THIS WILL INTEREST MANY.
F. W. Parkhurst, the Boston pub
lisher, says that if any one.afflicted
with rheumatism in any form, neu
ralgia or kidney trouble, will send
their address to him at 704-35 Carney
Bldg., Boston, Mass., he will direct
them to a perfect cure. He has noth
ing to sell or give, only tells you how
he was cured after yea,ra of • search
for relief. Hundreds 'have tested it
with success.
11
