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to
Fair moon, thou soft-eyed queen of
night,
’Twas long ago thy fairy light
Gleamed down so fair
On Helen’s hair,
Just as it shines tonight.
There in that ancient land she stood
(And the moonlight silvered lawn and
wood),
Outrivaling there
The lilies fair
That blossomed where she stood.
CHAT
HESE soft, hazy days of May
how beautiful they are—real
spring days at last after the long
T
lingering winter. How restful to lie
on the thick pine straw on some lone
ly hill side and look up through the
plumy pine tops at the blue sky mot
tled with white clouds; or down at
the newly budded woods in their va
rying tints of green, with here and
there the white flag of the dogwood,
or the pink banner of the honey
suckle flung out against the verdant
back ground.
If we do not have grand opera and
spectacular shows in the country —we
may enjoy without money or pi ice
beauty and music every day, such as
art cannot equal.
“But how can one take time to look
at sunsets and billowy forests or lis
ten to bird songs,” asked an ever
busy neighbor of mine, “when there is
spring cleaning to do, and three meals
to get beside a baby and an incubatoi
to attend to?” Well, it is not easy to
find time, but it is as worth while to
refresh your spirit as it is to bathe
your face, and a few minutes devoted
everv day to such restful refreshment
of the spirit would make life more
easily and harmoniously to every busy
home keeper.
Fineta’s letter today concerning the
wonderful magnetic power possessed
by a young evangelist, is full of inter
est. She writes: “We are all looking
forward to the coming of The Golden
Age Editor, and a heart-warming talk
from him. He must not disappoint
us.
We are glad to have our welcome
member tell us about the new
books she has read. Those who have
access to public libraries, should re
member their less fortunate sisters
and brothers and give them occasion
ally the gist of some of the most nota
ble new books. I would like to know
who among you has read lhe Mai
ried Life of the Frederic Carrolls,” by
Jesse Lynch Williams. It is much bet
ter written and a far more discerning
and subtle study of married life than
“Mrs. Eve’s Second Husband.” It deals
with every day life in a cheerful fash
ioned way, and solves a great social
problem—in away that critics pro
nounce “cleanly and practical,” also
that this solution “is a strong uplift
to public social morals.”
“The Star Gazers” is another cheer
ing story. The heroine is a girl of
Kentucky—beautiful, of course —was
she not born where the blue grass
grows —and thoroughbreds, human and
equine, are bred. She is engaged to
an English lord, but her sensible papa
THE HOUSEHOLD
A Department of Expression For Those Who Feel and Think
ANOTHER
By Will W. Gunter.
Ah, long the moon hath missed the
queen,
On earth no more can she be seen;
Yet I should make
A glad mistake
Out on a lawn that’s green—
Now r ev’ry time the blonde moon
bright
Comes down the royal path of night,
She strokes the hair
Os one as fair
As Helen at her height.
refuses to pay my Lord Baron’s bank
rupt debts, and the engagement comes
abruptly to an end. What is
too long to tell, but well worth read
ing.
Next w’eek I must reply to some of
the letters received from everywhere
■whose writers do not give their names
but ask to have their interesting ques
tions answered in The Golden Age.
A GLAD MAY DAY FOR INDIA.
“In 1852 Dr. Dwight of Turkey wrote
to a lady of this country saying he
was sure that female missionary phy
sicians of the right stamp would be
a most important auxiliary in the mis
sion work of the heathen world. He
believed that a well taught female
physician would find access to the
families of all classes of the people
not excepting the Moham Medans.
The first response came from a wo
man, Sarah J. Hale, of Philadelphia.
The editor of Godey’s Lady’s Book
was the prophet who saw from afar
this marvelous movement in the com
ing Kingdom, to which the men and
women of her generation were utterly
blinded by prejudice and indifference.
In 1851 she organized a Ladies’
Medical Missionary Society, whose
object was “to aid the work of
foreign missions by sending out
young women qualified as physi
cians to minister to the wants
of women in heathen lands.” She
wrote editorials in the Lady’s Book,
the Ladies’ Home Journal of those
days, corresponded with influential
people, and held parlor meetings. A
few clergymen expressed themselves
in sympathy; two young ladies just
graduated from the Woman’s Medical
College were ready and anxious to
go, but the time had not yet come.
The project aroused a storm of oppo
sition and ridicule. At that time the
old superstitious division between the
“spiritual” and the “secular” was rig
idly maintained. It was felt to be a
waste of precious time and money
to send missionaries to deal with any
thing but the perishing souls of men.
The intimate connection between the
soul and the body was not fully ap
preciated. And the example of the
Master in the time he devoted to re
lieving bodily distress was apparent
ly overlooked. Then there was that
awful bogy of a woman going out of
her sphere, even for the saving of
life. So Mrs. Hale, after repeated ef
forts to storm the fort of public preju
dice, was forced to postpone the de
sire of her heart to a better day. For
twenty years she waited to see the
Church begin tardily and timidly the
task that should have been begun in
1851.
Nothing further was done for sev
enteen years; then in India itself a
medical missionary, Dr. J. L. Hum-
The Golden Age for May 11,1911.
phrey, began to deliver a course of
lectures to a Glass of young women
in the orphanage at Banilly. A Hindu
gentleman, Pundit Nund Kishon, of
fered to defray half the expense of
training these young women if
the government could be induced
to help. The governor of the
province regarded the matter fa
vorably, but so much opposition
came from physicians that the
project seemed likely to fall through.
Then a noble English official became
personally responsible for the amount
asked from the government, and the
first class of nine women was opened
at Naini Tai, May 1, 1869, a day that
ought to be celebrated by the women
of India.
A two years’ course of study was
given to these women; and then four
of them were sent up to stand the
government examination. So much
hung on their success. Every one
said that the scheme was a wild one;
that women had neither the brains
nor the judgment to succesfully pass
tests framed for men. But the four
timid Indian women stood bravely be
fore the Board of English physicians
(one of them the Inspector-general of
Hospitals), answered correctly the
questions, bore themselves so quietly,
showed such thorough knowledge that
they won the Board and their coveted
certificates at the same time. The
Board testified that these young wo
men ‘answered questions with quick
ness and precision’ and had a knowl
edge of medicine and surgery quite
equal to the generality of locally en
tertained native doctors.”
Copied from Foreign Missionary
study and sent in by Mattie Howard.
Wtb ®ur Correspondents
ASKS ABOUT SOME BOOKS AND A
BALLAD.
Deal' Friends: I am trying hard, by
reading and studying, to improve my
self. I dearly love to read, and I wish
I knew just what books would be most
helpful to me; I would try to get
them, or some of them. I have very
little reading matter at present, and
on days of rain and wind, when I can
not sit on the porch and watch the
changeful clouds and listen to the
singing birds, I find it hard not to be
lonely. I earnestly wish I knew of
some kind of work that my cramped
hands could do.
I like good stories and novels. They
give me glimpses into the lives of
active, useful people. They show me
human nature, and often these stories
are merry and sweet, or full of inci
dents, so that by reading them I am
taken out of myself and carried into
the lovely regions of imagination.
I have had a novel called “Princess
of Glendale” commended to me; also
one called “Luella; or, The Blue and
the Gray.” I would like some of the
kind friends to tell me where I may
get these books; also “Meda’s Herit
age” and “Ethlyn’s Mistake.” Anoth
er favor I would like to ask: Can any
one tell me where I may find the
sequel to the fine old dramatic song,
“The Gypsy’s Warning?” I don’t
mean the “Answer to the Warning;” I
have that already, but another song
called “The Gypsy’s Decision.” I
would be glad to exchange the “Warn
ing” or the “Answer” for this ballad,
“The Decision.” I am very fond of
songs, and I dearly love to sing.
I trust, dear friends, you are all well
and happy. I think of you often, and
pray that you, who have shown such
sweet sympathy for me, may be kept
from sorrow and affliction.
MATTIE BEVERAGE.
Dabney, Ark.
$
BREAKING UP A HOME.
The craving for sympathy is hard
to resist when one is alone and no
longer young. I know that one should
be strong, and brave, and silent under
defeat in life’s battle, but it takes a
hero' to endure in silence, and I am no
hero. Also, it is true that the world —
the busy, commercial world —does not
stop to listen to a fellow mortal’s
woes.
“Weep, and you weep alone;
There are none to decline your festive
wine,
But alone you must drink your gall.”
But, knowing and appreciating all
this, I am yet moved to tell the House
hold friends my story. I am a South
Carolina farmer, not poor, but by no
means rich. My home is comfortable,
and when I brought my dear little wife
to it, years ago, I thought life was go
ing to be one long, sweet dream.
So it was for years. My Jessie was
busy and cheery, my four children
good and bright, my home was a place
of love, peace and comfort. Only one
shadow fell across its threshold: we
lost our dear son; but sorrow seemed
only to draw us closer together. But
there came a change. My wife was of
Northern parentage; her father was a
native of New York; she had been
brought up in a city. Still, she had
never seemed to sigh for the gay,
whirling life she had left. She was as
contented as a bird in its nest. But
one day several of her Northern rela
tives came to visit us. They made
themselves quite at home. They ate
fried chicken and fruit with relish. I
treated them in the best way I could
and did everything to make their long
visit pleasant. What did they do in
return? They worked on my wife to
make her discontented with her coun
try home and what they called her
narrow life. She was just buried here,
they said. When they went away,
they took her with them. This was
six years ago, and I have never seen
her since. She has ceased to answer
my letters, and I have almost lost the
hope of her ever returning to me.
I did not deserve such treatment
frerni her. I was a true and loving
husband; I lived uprightly; I had no
bad habits; I neither drank liquor nor
used tobacco; I tried to live a Chris
tian life. True, I did not give her
such luxuries as I would have gladly
bestowed had my means been greater,
but our home did not lack comfort.
I live alone in the home that once
was so full of life and cheer. I take
my meals at a neighbor’s. I have a
number of humble friends, whose com
pany is a consolation to me; my birds,
my chickens, my flowers. I love Na
ture, and often her sweet, silent minis
tering brings peace to my soul. But
often I feel unspeakably lonely. I
have no congenial friends, and I have
always the memory of the days that
are no more. Is it not Dante, the Ital
ian poet, who says that —
“Sorrow’s crown of sorrow is remem
bering happier things?”
Can any of you kind and wise House
holders tell me what to do? I still
love my wife dearly, and would joy
fully welcome her return to me; but
she no longer feels the sacredness of
the marriage bond. Her relatives had
very lax ideas about marriage. They
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