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(Upon the humble stone of a poor
peasant, in an English burial place,
some merciless hand has inscribed
the cruel, if significant, sentence, —
“Only a Clod.”) —Author.
“Only a clod;” on the grave of a peas
ant,
Sleeping in quietness under the sod,
Someone the sentence —unfeeling—un-
pleasant—
Lettered insultingly, “Only a clod.”
“Only a clod;” in an obscure God’s
acre,
Where the old yews and the cy
presses nod.
One who went solemnly home to his
Maker,
Scorn has depicted as “Only a clod.”
“Only a clod;” he had kinship with
Nature, —
Doomed tho’ he was thus obscurely
to plod,—
Was he imperfect in brain or in fea
ture?
Still he was child to her —“Only a
clod!”
“Only a clod;” he could feel —he was
human —
Victim of poverty —target of scorn—
Holy the source whence he sprang and
a woman
Groaned in her travail that he might
be born!
| CHA T
< )
FROM the bedside of our
dear Mater the cheering
news comes that she is im
proving. Pneumonia is a reluctant
Monster, however, and we will
have to be very patient and con
iderate until our Household Moth
er can grow strong and rosy again.
(Associate Editor.)
UUub CprrcsponOents
‘•THE SPREEWALD”—TRAVEL AR
TICLE NO. 1.
By Jane Burr.
Dank and mystic—wooded and
marshy—silent save for the swish of
the boats and the calls of the boat
men, lies “The Spreewald,” the Venice
of northern Germany.
Neither the clatter of a hoof, nor
the crack of a whip will ever disturb
the harmony and the peace of the
Wendish population, who here retain
the original dialect and costumes of
their Slavish forefathers who swept
over this part of the continent many
hundred years ago.
A few lonely oxen pull the plows
over the moist ground that rises strug
glingly up between the arms of the
river Spree as it interlaces the thick
ly wooded land in more than two hun
dred quaintly bridged canals. There
is not a roadway to be found, but every
point is easily accessible, either over
the bridges or on the canals in long,
fiat boats which are pulled by a serv
ant trudging a’ong slowly on the shore.
In winter the canals are transformed
into frozen bands of shimmering ice,
ONLYA CLOD
By ARTHUR GOODENOUGH.
THE HOUSEHOLD
A Department of Expression For Those Who Feel and Think
“Only a clod;” he was naught in the
Nation,
Ignorance blinded and poverty
cursed; —
Still it may be in the Lord’s congre
gation
Weighed in His balance “The last
may be first!”
"Only a clod;” he was poor he was
lowly—
Thorny indeed w r as the pathway he
trod
Christ died to save him a Sacrifice
hoiy—
Martyr to circumstance “Only a
clod.”
“Only a clod;” he was made in God’s
image,—
Men may despise him or men may
upbraid;
This I am sure, in some present or
dim age,
God will remember the man that
He made!
“Only a clod;” by misfortune sur
rounded
Bearing life’s burden and feeling its
rod;
Still, on that day when the trumpet is
sounded,
God may esteem him as more than
a clod.
where sleds and skates take the place
of the long, flat, slow-moving boats of
the summer months.
As impalpable as sea-foam, as in
describable as changing cloud effects,
is the exquisite perfume of thousands
of roses, that hover and lift, that fade
and revive in seductive confusion over
this fantastic mimic world. Brazen
cabbage roses, dainty tea roses; lus
cious red buds and energetic creep
ers, grow in unrestrained riot and
without ine slightest attempt at har
monious groupings, on every bit of
earth that is large enough to hold a
root. The highest priced vegetables
in all Germany are raised in this sec
tion, it being especially famous for a
certain sort of cucumber that possess
es no bitterness in its rind.
The costumes of the women are
elaborate and costly, but as they are
worn with care and handed down
from generation to generation, the en
tire expense of a toilet never falls up
on one family. Each generation but
renews some portion of the garment
that has fallen into uselessness from
extreme old age. The huge white lin
en head-gear is often inserted with
rare, real lace, and the Sunday aprons
are of heavy white silk, laden with
hand-embroidered roses, designed at
random from the originals all about,
and added to by each heir until they
become a solid expanse of elaborate
silk needlework that could be exhibi
ted with success at any museum but
which could not be purchased at any
price. The skirts are brilliant red
with a band of dancing animals or
people embroidered around the hem.
The winter bodice of black velvet
with a quaint ruffled effect at the
waist is replaced in summer by one
o c lace and embroidery, collarless and
sleeveless, save for a small cap over
the shoulders. They are husky, well
formed women, so that the expanse of
The Golden Age For November 9, 1911.
arm is not the least unattractive. Hand
wrought gold chains are wound round
the- arms and necks of the wealthy
women and heavy colored cords deco
rate the financially less fortunate.
Church going on Sunday morning
is the most exciting function in “The
Spreewald.” The various families,
elaborately costumed, arrive in their
low, flat boats and congregate in the
churchyard where the past week’s do
ings are criticised and the coming
one’s possibilities discussed.
The most interesting fact about
“The Spreewald” is its yearly output
of wet-nurses and nursery maids, who
supply without exception all the best
families of Berlin, which is the near
est large city. They are of sweet, pa
tient dispositions and are careful, in
telligent attendants, so that any Ger
man mother who has one attached to
her household feels confident of the
safety of her children. They wear
their native costumes in Berlin and
are always the attraction in public
parks, where they remain all day with
their small charges.
While digging in “The Spreewald,”
it is a common occurrence for a far
mer to turn up parts of old Slavish
tombs, with numerous ash-laden urns
intact. The people care nothing for
such antiques and willingly give them
to the first person who seems inter
ested. It is remarkable that these
queer people can live so near to the
busy, real world and still retain an ut
ter indifference to any customs and
habits other than their own. They
are more than two thousand years old
and it seems probable, owing to the
prolific type of their race, that they
will easily maintain their purity for
many more centuries.
DEAR WOMAN, IS IT NECESSARY?
For six thousand years, man has
ruled this world; and science, art and
religion, have all developed and com
bined into a wonderful civilization.
Is it necessary now for woman to de
sert her post as “queen of the uni
verse,” though seated upon the throne
of domestic duty, to push her way in
to the rank and file of masculine pro
fessions; The success of thousands of
noble, honorable and learned men,
attest their capability of fulfilling the
sternest duties of life, and it seems
no less than ingratitude in woman to
attempt to depose man from his right
ful inheritance. The physical make
up of woman is such as to render her
• unable to cope with man as a bread
winner, even though in some few in
stances, she is his equal intellectually.
It is a fact that the normal brain of
woman does not reach the standard
of man’s in material weight, and it is
beyond the possibility of woman ever
to succeed at State-craft or politics.
The few masculine types who crave
“independence,” from their very lack
of womanliness will command a hear
ing, perhaps, in the senate chambers,
or legislative halls, just as a woman in
pants and whiskers would attract at
tention as a monstrosity, and not as
a thing of beauty.
“To be womanly, is the greatest
charm of woman.”
As wife, mother, sister or daughter,
she possesses all the possibilities of
the subtle beauties of face, mind and
heart, and her charms become as
priceless gems, locked within a guar 1 -
ed case, away from the roughening
influences pt intrigue and unsightly
facts, as they stand like huge wreck
ing rocks, on life’s ever-changing sea.
A woman’s purity and innocence are
the greatest attractions she can pos
sess.
When there exist no mental, politi
cal or commercial differences between
man and woman, there wul exist no
moral difference.
It is only the refined influences that
have been shdd around our mothers
and grandmothers for generations,
that have preserved their comely
forms and faces, hallowed by the pur
ity of heart and nobility of soul.
Had they been rushed into the wars
of the world side by side, and as the
equal of man, today would behold a
race of cruel amazons, instead of the
multitude of gentle women who ini our
homes.
R. L. HILL
¥
THE ONLY BOOK.
Bible study grows more and more
interesting as our minds develop. We
might read through the wonderful
book every year, yet every time, we
find something new; something we
never noticed before. Informing our
selves with Bible study helps, dark
passages are made clear and we real
ize the truth that this book has been
preserved through the ages. In my
recent Sunday school lessons I find
that “the three oldest and greatest
of the manuscript copies of the Bible
are the “Vatican” at Rome; the “Sin
aitis,” at St. Petersburg, and the
“Alexandrian” at London. These are
in Greek and belong to the fourth cen
tury.
The first Bible in the Latin language
was translated from the Hebrew and
Greek by Jerome in 382 A. D. The
first English Bible was translated by
Wickliffe, in 1535 A. D. The greatest
of the English Bibles, more used than
all others, is the King James Bible of
1611. The latest of the English Bibles
is known as the “Revised,” and was
completed, in 1884. How many
changes the Book has gone through,
yet the truth is preserved clear and
sparkling. The great principle, Love
Divine, runs through the whole and
points directly to Jesus, the great
Teacher of this principle. We cannot
believe anyone rejects Jesus, whose
life illustrates this truth. Though Ben
jamin Franklin did not profess to ac
cept various creeds of his day, his was
a life of temperance, industry and love
for his fellow creatures. He attained
wonderful success, and the principle
that urged him on was to benefit oth
ers —to turn the powers of nature to
the use of the entire world.
Mrs. Wester, I am glad you were
pleased wita my reply to your inqui
ries. I thank you for calling attention
to those questions. I have gained a
good deal from my readings this sum
mer, suggested by your letter. I wish
space would allow me to write you all
I read about the 10th and 11th chap
ters of Daniel. I will say a few
things in a condensed way. “These
THIS WILL INTEREST MANY.
r. W. Parkhurst, the Boston pub
lisher, says that if anyone afflicted
with rheumatism in any form, neural
gia or kidney trouble, will send their
address to him at 701 Carney Bldg.,
Boston, Mass., he will direct them to
a perfect cure. He has nothing to sell
or give; only tells you how he was
cured after years of search for relief.
Hundreds have tested it with success.
J*