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WAY down in sunny Florida, nestling
among the orange groves on the banks
of the St. Johns river, is a beautiful and
thriving little town. Set far back on
one of the most attractive streets is a
picturesque cottage, peeping out from
the trees and vines, contrasting oddly
with the stately residence of Mr. May
opposite, though not an unpleasant
I
sight, for the simple beauty of the one fully equals
the grandeur of the other.
In the cottage Katie Dean was crying because she
could not get a new dress for Easter. In the stately
residence another girl, about the same age, was try
ing on a fine new hat and dress. She stood before
the glass, turning this way and that to note the
effect, now glancing over her shoulder at the back
of her head while she held a small hand mirror in
front. She looked as vain as a peacock.
At the farther end of the street, in one of the
poorest cottages of the town, was still another girl,
Lucy Hale, who had a beautiful, placid face, with
golden hair that made a halo around her snowy
brow. Her blue eyes were very sweet to look at,
but one looking closely missed something, for they
had that vacant stare of the blind.
Katie, with tears all dried, ran in with some milk
that her mother had sent.
“Here’s some milk, Lucy. And, Lucy, just think,
mamma says I can sell enough to get a new dress
for Easter! Won’t that be nice? All the girls will
have new dresses, and I do want one so much!”
Lucy smiled and turned her sightless eyes toward
Katie, saying:
“You are so good to us, Katie, and I am glad, for
I know that you will look pretty in it.”
But Katie only smiled as she thought of her plain
little brown face.
Lucy told Katie all her hopes, in a sweet, girlish
H THE CALL OF A TRYING HOUR p
♦f To Our Friends Everywhere: ♦t
>4- If you ever have heard us, or intend to hear us, HEAR US NOW. . . , . ti
it During the early boyhood of our Editor-in-Chief, Mr. W. D. Upshaw,, he was as strong and vigorous physically as any of us, his
tt head and heart throbbing with high ambitions for the achievements of his manhood, but at the buoyant age of eighteen his plans tor 4 +
tt a useful life were suddenly cut down, when in a fall from a wood wagon on his father’s farm, his back was so injured that he lay on 4 >
ts bed seven years and a half, and has since had to wear a body brace and go on crutches. But he did not give up. After the first
It two years, during which he was as helpless as a three-months’-old babe, with the very slow return of partial strength, came a stro g
tt determination to yet make his life mean something to the world. Out of this determination was born the desire to put a pure, whole-
tt some family paper each week into the homes all over our Southland, and as far beyond as possible, thus helping to shape young 4>
tt minds and mould them into stronger, purer manhood and womanhood. It was a dream, that clung to Mr. Upshaw all throug t ose
ti seven years and a half on bed, and he has worked with untiring energy to make this dream a permanent reality since get-
tt ting on his feet, feeling the work just as important, and more so, in many respects, as that of Carnegie s Library 4>
tt"' work. It was this conviction that caused THE GOLDEN AGE COMPANY to be formed, and it has been a, deepen-
ii ing of this conviction on account of the place the paper has won in the hearts of the people: that hasmade both M . F »
tt those others connected with it, cling to it so tenaciously, through not only the ordinary hard work of launching a newspape , + 4
it also through other circumstances that have made the enterprise extremely hard to man. We have not sought to disguise the act ♦ >
tt from our friends during these four years of struggle to establish THE GOLDEN AGE as a beautiful, inspiring, family paper, tat e
It daily battle has been fierce and furious. By far the greater portion of the financial, besides the editorial work has fallen and rested p
tt heavily on the shoulders of Mr. Upshaw. He now lies flat on his back in Winona, Miss., where he must stay for several weeks, pos- 44
tt sibly into the months, his left thigh being broken by a fall from a buggy—cut down on the very threshold o. plans tnat seemed to
it nromise deliverance from all the vexing problems before us. . 4 4
tt P Now, what do we want? Just this: Put yourself in our place and his, as nearly as possible, witn our main source of income 44
tt cut off, and extra expenses piling up on account of this misfortune, see his “heart-set ’ plans tottering, an i you e leve in ew r > +
tt or him, know that both need right now a practical expression of that faith and your friendship. Broughton’s Ser- ti
ii We do not feel it an unreasonable request. Each subscriber gets fully the worth Oi his or her y • g . ■• tt
44 mons alone”—numbers have said so. . . ... , ,
t* Here is a plan we believe easy for you. Every one whose eyes fall on this can strain a point a little and send either $2.00 for ♦ ♦
tl one year’s subscription to THE GOLDEN AGE, or SI.OO for six months. If you are a paid-up subscriber, just advance it one year *+
++ ahead, or take a life-time subscription at SIO.OO. The REASON will make you happy. 44
tt One thousand men and women who read these words could raise a club of six at $1.50 each, thus securing e paper ree or »
it themselves, or some worthy family, not able to take it; suppose YOU make one of the thousand. Use the. tekph.one Wre a few £
t> notes See several friends face to face. Help them to see that they get their money s worth, and help to carry this inspiring paper ++
tt into other homes while they are lifting the heavy burden of financial anxiety off this man whose life, since his first misfortune, has been +t
tt spent in bearing the burdens of others. if
It A bit of tact and enthusiasm, and the deed is done. „ „ . , , , .. , . , • if
it A few minutes of generous determination on your part will help to make the valley of trial, through whic e and we aie passing,
ii a m °DONT h WAIT f ’TILL 1 TOMORROW. ’ THE GOLDEN AGE PUBLISHING COMPANY. tt
Mtttttt 111tttlO ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ t tt
KATIE’S EASTER SACRIFICE
, By Margaret Smith Graham.
The Golden Age for March 24, 1910.
way. And her greatest wish was to see her mother’s
face.
“You know, Katie, that I’ have been blind since I
was four years old. If I only had enough money to
go to a specialist, I feel sure that he could restore
my sight.”
Katie glanced toward Mrs. Hale and saw the tears
steal silently down her cheek, saw her wipe them
away quickly lest they fall on the garment she was
making. Katie, looking very serious indeed for a
little girl, took up her bonnet and went out. When
she reached home she said to her mother:
“Mamma, I’m not going to get any dress for
Easter. I’ll wear my old one, though I did say I
wouldn’t. I’m going to keep the money I get for the
milk. Oh, I’m going to do something glorious! I
shall help Lucy to see.”
Then she told her mother what Lucy had said and
how she had been thinking in what way she could
help her, and at last thought of the milk.
Mrs. Dean smiled as she looked at her little daugh
ter’s face, aglow with excitement.
“That was spoken like a good girl, and mother
will help you all she can.”
The tears were in Katie’s eyes as, putting her
arms around her mother’s neck, she said:
“I’m going to try to be a better girl. You know,
mamma, you told me that trying was half the battle.
I wonder why God gave a good papa and mamma
such a naughty girl?”
Katie sang beautifully and could chirp and whistle
like a mocking bird. In the morning she took milk
to the hotel and received the money for it. How
light-hearted she was at the thought of helping
Lucy!
On her way home she had to pass a large mill
where there was always a crowd of men. Now, as
she came near, the crowd seemed larger than usual,
for it was pay day, and all the workmen were there
in force. She wondered where so many came from.j
and were they all kind-hearted? Suddenly an idea
popped into the little brown head. She paused a?
short distance from them, and throwing back her
head, whistled the prelude of a plaintive little song,
then began to sing. The rough workmen gathered
around her, listened in rapt attention. After the
song one of the men, holding out his hat, said:
“Here, Jim, we’ll take up a collection fur the little
gal. She must ’a’ came straight frum heaven; I
don’t s’pose the angels kin sing any purtier.”
Providence must have put it into the heart of
each to be charitable that morning, for they col
lected several dollars.
Katie’s face was beaming with pleasure, but sud
denly fell. She had not stopped to think if her
parents would approve of what she had done. It
was an impulsive act, no sooner thought of than
carried out.
She was turning sadly away, when she heard
some one laugh near by. Looking up, she saw Alice
May and her brother Frank.
“Why, Katie, I didn’t know that you had taken to
street singing! How much money did you get?
Enough to buy you a new dress for Easter? Here’s:
a quarter to help out, for I do want you to look as:
well as the other girls.” And Alice tossed the
money to Katie.
“Oh, sis, you needn’t say a word; Katie’ll look bet
ter in her old dress than you will in all your finery;
she always does,” Frank said, laughing.
But Katie was mad, and picking up the money,
she threw it, with all her might, back at Alice. Turn
ing, she ran down the street. As she reached the
corner, she heard Frank laugh again, and her blood
fairly boiled with childish rage.
Katie knew that Alice would tell all the other
school girls of the morning’s occurrence, and they
would tease her unmercifully.
But she still continued, bravely, to sell the milk
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