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STROLLING ALONG THE LANE
Strolling along the lane
One morning with fair Miss Jane
(And the flowers of spring
Did a fragrance fling
On the balmy air the while),
I said to her, with a smile:
“Would that we two might go
Together, in gladness and woe,
Together, in sunshine and rain,
Strolling along life's lane.”
Strolling along the lane,
Bhishingly said Miss Jane
(And she fondled a flower of spring
As it were a sentient thing,
Her eyes downcast all the while,
CHAT.
A rural rhymer has expressed his
ideal of perfect happiness in three
lines:
“A little farm well tilled, .
A little barn well-filled,
A little wife well-willed.”
A few days ago I saw the realization
of the versifier’s modest ideal. The
little farm was “tilled” as perfectly as
brains and industry could have it; the
neat white-washed barn seemed ready
to burst with its store of corn, hay, fod
der, oats, etc., and the little wife, gath
ering apples from an orchard tree, red
with fruit, looked so smilingly happy
that one felt sure she was “well-will
ed.” The farm consisted of ten culti
vated acres and a grass pasture, wa
tered by a little brook, shaded by
.trees, beneath which stood two fat
cows. Three acres of the land were in
cotton-tail, finely branched and be
ginning to be dotted with the snow of
bursting bolls. The remainder of the
farm was in grain, fruit, sweet pota
toes and garden vegetables —cabbage,
turnips, carrots, beans, spinach and
okra. On top of a big load of hay lay
big pumpkins and “kershaws.” Every
thing displayed the luxuriant growth
that comes only from skilful cultiva
tion.
It has been well said that no field
of industry is richer in latent opportu
nities than truck farming in Georgia
and her sister states. Garden and
truck products have a good market
awaiting them at home and a great
market crying for them in the crowd
ed east. A little land, less capital,
plenty of thrift and good judgment
these are the only things needed to
reap the profits and the wholesome
pleasures of a truck farming business.
What can be done with a few acres
of land situated near a town or acces
sible to railroads is strikingly illus
trated by Denmark today. The in
stance is an apt one because Den
mark’s population and Georgia’s are
approximately the same, though the
former’s climate is crabbed and its soil
arid compared to ours. There are
sixty-five thousand farms in Denmark,
of less than fourteen acres each,
farms that are not only self-maintain
ing, but profitable. There are hun
dreds of men who on four acres make
a decent living for themselves and
their families. They have three or
four cows, perhaps ten pigs, and they
produce their own eggs, poultry and
vegetables. I here are two hundi ed
and fifty thousand farms in Denmark,
over eighty-nine per cent of which are
owned by the men who live on them,
and the average size of which is about
thirty acres. Two years ago this lit-
THE HOUSEHOLD
A Department of Expression For Those Who Feel and Think.
JTaigaret A. Richard.
And her red lips wreathed in a smile):
“ ’Twill give me sweet pleasure to go
With you, in gladness and woe,
With you, in sunshine and rain,
Strolling along life's lane.”
Strolling along the lane,
I and my dear wife Jane
Together have lost life’s spring
And the fragrance her flowers ti ng -
And now ’tis winter, in truth,
And far in the past is youth.
Yet we are true lovers today,
Happy because alway
Together, in sunshine and rain,,
Strolled we along life’s lane.
tie country was exporting annually
nearly eighty-nine million dollars’
worth of farm products to England,
South America and even the Philip
pines. There are few paupers in Den
mark and the increased cost of living
is less burdensome there than any
where else in the world.
Here then is a hint of what Georgia
could do in the same realm of enter
prise. Many men, in seeking big op
portunities, miss the treasure that lies
at their very feet in little opportuni
ties. In Georgia it doesn’t take fifty or
a hundred acres of land and a large
outlay in machinery and stock to make
a good living in the country. A truck
farm of a dozen or less acres will keep
any family comfortable.
A correspondent who signs herself
“Beatrice” asks: “Do you think it
wrong to be a little insincere? Is any
one in society ever perfectly true in
what they say to one another? I do
not believe one can be really candid
and not disliked. I think it is more
amicable to make people feel good
even at the cost of frankness, than to
wound feelings and create an unpleas
ant atmosphere by being perfectly sin
cere.”
My Dear Beatrice: Ido believe it
is possible to be popular in society
without being insincere. One can be
truthful without losing one’s reputa
tion for amiability. You may be po
lite, sweet-natured and courteous, with
out yielding to the temptation to gush,
to “put on” or to tell white lies.
It is hard sometimes not to agree
with friends who expect you to think
as they do, but you can frame your
disagreement with them in away not
to wound. And absolute sincerity
gives one an influence and a standing
in a community that is worth a great
deal. Os course one should never lose
sight of good breeding and good sense
—and hurl truths at people as if they
were javelins or slung shot. One
should never volunteer an unpleasant
truth, and when there is necessity for
frankness there is also a gentle and
considerate way of being sincere.
I know a woman who is habitually
and unswervingly truthful, yet she is
not only respected, but she is loved
and admired. Her friends ask her
opinion, saying “I know I can depend
on what you say. You will never say
what you do not think,” or “I have
asked you because I know you always
mean what you say.” No, you need
never say unkind or uncomplimentary
things. Silence is always at your
service, and a little of it will tide you
oyer awkward place without breaking
faith with truth or courtesy. Good
feeling has more to do with good breed-
The Golden Age for September 29, 1910.
ing than all the fibs and white lies
ever told.
And believe me, the generality of
people are not imposed upon. Truth
will prevail, and the insincere person
will be found out and held in contempt.
Dear Mattie Beverage has awakened
sympathy in a number of our readers.
“Happy Girl” is a delightful acquisi
tion to our Household, and our long
silent sister from Texas is cordially
welcome to our circle. We are glad to
hear again from Sweet Annice, of Ten
nessee, whose big heart keeps her in
touch with all the members of the
Household. She says our humorously
gifted “Slip” has been quite ill —is still
confined to his room and longs for
messages from his old-time friends.
TOttb ©nr Gorresponbents
Wednesday, Sept. 14, 1910.
My Dear Little Chum:
Some how I feel like you were the
only friend I have. I have been very
ill for a month and never a letter
from any one in all that time. But
you remembered me with the papers.
Some times I could only look at them,
but it made me glad to know you had
not forgotten me, and I love you for
it, little woman.
Hope you are getting on O. K., and
can find time to send me a line or
two soon.
I’d like to say more, only am pretty
weak and shaky now —can’t govern
my hand and it makes my writing
bad to read.
Well, write when you can, to
Your old chum,
SLIP.
The Cedars, Sept. 20, 1910.
My Dear Mater:
Enclose dear old Slip’s last letter.
Can you not send him a line to show
you still remember the dear old fel
low. 1 write when I can, but I never
fail to send magazine and papers
every week. And I often send
him pretty shirts, handkerchiefs, col
lars, socks etc. I fear he is slip
ping away from us all. How could
Mizpah write as she did in this G. A.?
It is not one bit true about farmers,
their country life, and what kind of
people they are. My people from
Francis Xavier, down to John Sein,
and on to now have all been raised on
farms. Are they not as good as the
city born? There is no more learned
man in all this country than dear old
brother, yet. he was a born farmer as
well as lawyer. 1 mean to answer
her, if you can’t. I have been up to
Knoxville. Wish you could go there.
ANNICE.
PICTURESQUE TALLASSEE.
Dear Mater and Household: I think
when I wrote last I told yon of visiting
my son, who has an ice plant. My
pleasant visit was cut short by a tele
gram from my daughter, telling me
that her husband was ill with pneu
monia, and begging me to come home.
I went at once and found Mr. S. very
ill; but, thanks to our good Father, he
pulled through and is now able to be
up and about the house. I told you
about ths ice plant, but I had not then
looked into the details of the machin
ery and the method of turning water
into ice. I have done this since. They
have a large tank filled with salt
several ton.-,; a large compressor full
ol ammonia, w'th pipes running
around big cans filled with water, that
are set in brine from the salt tank.
The water is not boiled; it is frozen
right from the spring, and is pure and
fine. Os course no salt or ammonia
gets into it. The spring water is
medicinal, excellent for dyspepsia and
dysentery. People from miles around
haul it to their homes to drink.
Tallassee is the most picturesque
town I ever saw. It is situated on a
lofty hill overlooking the river. On
getting off the train at the station, you
can look straight up and see the
houses all along the hillside. ■ One
wide road runs straight to the top of
the hill, and numerous winding ones
diverge from the main roadway and
go to the d'fferent houses. The falls
are grand. There are two large fac
tories, one on either side of the river,
with the cottages of the factory peo
ple clustering about them. I saw
some gorgeous scarlet wild flowers,
whose blossoms greatly resembled the
hollyhock, though the foliage was dif
ferent. I would like much to know
the name. I did not get to go fish
ing, which was a disappo’ntment, as
1 expected to tell you about catching
a “whopping’’ big fish.
OLD WOMAN.
*
HOW AND WHEN I PUNISH A
CHILD.
I never punish my children unless
I am sure they have done deliberately
what they knew to be wrong, and done
it the second time after being forb’d
den to do it. A second transgression
should not be overlooked. It is better
to let a child go unreproved than to
threaten punishment and fail to in
flict it. I try various ways of punish
ing, and endeavor to make the pun
ishment proportionate to the wrong
doing. If a child is persistently late
to breakfast, I deprive him, not of his
proper food, but of some dainty he
particularly likes, or of the ride or
walk he has been antie pating. If he
eats carelessly, I pin a bib around his
neck and tell him he is a baby, or
make Irm sit still in his chair, after
eating, for ten minutes for each spot
on the table-cloth. When he throws
his toys and tools about instead of put
ting them in his drawer, I pick up and
hide the things for a day or so,
telling him why he was deprived of
them. For saying ugly words I have
him wash out his mouth with soda or
turpentine soap and water. If he tells
a falsehood, I apply a pinch of red
pepper to his tongue. When the chil
dren quarrel, I administer a dose of
bitter boneset tea, of which I keep a
bottle. It is a good bile corrective,
and, if not. needed, does no harm. If
a ch’ld forgets a message or an article
he is told to bring, I pin on him a card
on which is written, in large letters,
“Remember.” When children get on
badly together, separate them and do
not allow them to approach each other
for hours. Give each of them a Bible
verse to commit to memory. Putting
a bad-tempered child to bed and treat
ing him as if he were sick often has a
good effect.
I find that a quiet, serious little talk
at bedtime is a great help in securing
obedience. It is best not to pay much
attention to a sullen, angry child.
Keep your own temper and give him
but little notice. When he is out of
the sulks say to him, “I am sure you
punished yourself for your sullen
mood. Yon have looked unhappy and
ugly, and you have felt so. Try never
to let this happen to you again.” Very
often such a calm, critical rebuke will
have the desired effect.
A MIDDLE AGED MOTHER.
Charlotte, N. C.
