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16
HOW TO PRAY.
(Continued from Page 7.)
can’t ’member, hits been so long.
’Bout nine years’ haint hit?”
“Yes, Mammy, nine years. Four
months and three days, we have
waited, and no tidings of him. We
do not know if he is alive.”
“Po little chile. Yo Mammy no’s all
erbout hit; he tole me he gwi cum
back en git you, and I was ter live
wid you bof t’well I dies. He made
me promise him I would stay wid
you t’well he cum back, en I told him
I would. I’s prayed fer him every
nite, Miss Lucy, sents he lef. I no
he’s cumin back.”
One evening, late in the Fall, the
sun had set, and darkness was hover
ing over the earth, when a man, tired,
worn, dirty but with a once handsome
face, which showed every sign of
heavy dissipation, walked slowly
along a lane that led to all that was
left of what had once been the negro
quarters of a weathy planter in the
days of the Old South. His thoughts
wandered back, as he saw the old
familiar buildings, to the picture of
that last farewell. It had followed
him through all these years of blight
ed hopes -and fallen castles, until the
pull on the heart- strings had drawn
him back at last to the sacred influ
ence of the hallowed spot.
He wondered if “she” was there in
the old home “across the way,” as he
had left her years ago. There was
the flicker of a hope that died as
quickly as it was born, and his face
colored to crimson, then went white,
as he saw the picture of the past and
all it seemed to hold, held up by that
of the present. As he neared one of
the cabins, he faltered, and was about
to raise his hand to knock, when a fa
miliar voice from w’ithin fell upon his
ears, one whose petitions he had of
ten listened to before, and had heard
in all those reckless wanderings:
“Heavenly Father, es hit bees Thy
will,” it said, “bring him back. He’s
ole Mammy wants ter see him. Miss
Lucy wants ter see him. Bring him
back, 0 Lord, to de old home. Lord,
es hit bees Thy will, bring him back
tonite. Sho him de way. Tell him
his old Mammy what fust tuck him in
her arms when he was buckin dem
eyes at me, wants ter see him onst
more ’fore she goes up yander. She
wants to tell his mother that all is
Tells
how to make
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vices for the HOME
and fl jb Read What
tM SySL to K Others Say
Success and the Hugh Monfort, Hr
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well wid him when I gits up dar
where she is at.”
He stood still, with reverently bow
ed head, as if in deep thought, and
said to himself. “She asks ‘show him
the way.’ What way?”
A still small voice that man can
not understand whence it comes, re
plied “The way to God, and how to
live.”
“And shall her prayer he answered;
can it be, after all that has been—
all these years of broken vows and
dissipation? ’ he asked himself.
Somewhere out of the past came the
words,
“Just as I am without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,”
and then the memory that this same
faithful Mammy had said: “Remem
ber, Marse Tom, de good Lord says
‘whosoever will may come.’ ” Into his
heart came a flood of repentant sor
row, and out of its very depths the
words: “by the help of God that
prayer shall be answered tonight.”
“Come in,” came the response, as
he gave the door a knock.
“Tank de Lord, Marse Tom; de
prodigal done cum home.”
“Yes, hunnie, I knowed you was
cumin. I had the promise and de
’zentiment last nite, en told Miss Lucy
so.”
“Miss Lucy, Mammy, did you say?
Where is she?
“She is rite dar where you lef her,
waitin’ fer you.”
Who is the evangelist, and where is
he from? was the question asked by
all, after a sermon preached by Tom
Summerville, in a town in the eastern
part of North Carolina, the next morn
ing after the opening service of a
week’s preaching in that town.
“Did you hear his first sermon?”
asked another.
He told us who taught him how to
pray. He said, when he was a boy,
his old black Mammy was always
telling him he must be sure to say his
prayers, and in a fit of temper one day,
he said to her: “Mammy, you are
always talking about me praying—tell
me how to pray?”
Her reply was: “Well, chile, I no’s
dere is somethin’ dat tells me when
I does rong. I no’s dat I mus’ go to
some one, and as yo mother, chile,
showed me de way, I gwi do my best
to sho hit to you. When I opens my
eyes in de mawnin’, an’ sees de light
uv another day, I axes God to shed
more light in my path, so I can go
His way, an’ walk right. I gits up,
an’ ’gins puttin’ on my clothes. I
thanks Him for dem clothes, and axes
Him to clothe me wid richerness, and
help me tur liv rite. I gits down
to kindle the fire, and I blows ’twell
hit ’gins ter blaze, and I axes Him
to kindle er flame uv love in dis ole
heart ob mine and to let me sho dat
love to others. I eats my breakfus’
an’ while I feeds dis ole body of mine,
I axes Him to feed my soul wid man
ner from on high, en chile I goes all
thu de day dat way, caus de Bible
pintly says, yo mus’ prey without sea
sin.”
“It was she,” said he, “who taught
me how to pray.”
4* 4*
MRS. GILREATH’S MAIDEN TRIP.
(Continued from Page 8.)
I asked a man of influence and in
telligence if there was much illicit dis
tilling going on now and he laughed,
“Last week,” he said, “I asked a man
among us how much he had in his cel
lar, and he replied, ‘oh, I guess some
three hundred gallons of apple
brandy.’ ” I then asked the question,
“Well, if you wanted one gallon of
that brandy how would you go about
getting it?”
“Why,” he replied, “I would simply
say, ‘Jack, I want a jug of brandy,’ and
the next day he would bring it into,
The Golden Age, for November 21, 1912.
my office in a jug in a sack. I would
give him his two or three or four dol
lars, as the case might be and that is
all there would be to it.”
Boldly carrying on the nefarious
traffic and no one molesting them or
making them afraid. But in every
town I found a little band of women,
women who had suffered, banded to
gether to work and fight and pray, and
finally the right will prevail.
I came down praying that God would
bless the praying women of the moun
tains, and He will!
Most of this week I spent in At
lanta in Mrs. W. D. Upshaw’s beautiful
new home, from there I went to Col
lege Park and East Point, working
in the cause.
Intense interest is manifested every
where in my work, of organizing and
building up the local Union, and beau
tiful attention and cordial sympathy is
extended me.
Today I am in Crawfordville, the
historic old town of Alexander Steph
ens. A good crowd greeted us last
night at the city auditorium, and
when after the temperance talk I saw
some young men signing the pledge.
I felt that my coming was not in vain.
Monday I go to Waynesboro, then
Hepnsibah and Monticello, and then
I will peep in on my boys for Thanks
giving.
I ask the prayers of the readers of
The Golden Age that I may arouse the
people to the awful curse of rum, and
that I may touch hearts and bring
lives closer to the beloved Master,
wherever He may send me.
MRS. LEM GILREATH.
State Evangel and Organizer W. C.
T. U. of Ga.
•Jo ®J®
PINEY WOOD SKETCHES.
(Continued from Page 9.)
The Chinaman early in life discover
ed that used tea leaves, forest leaves,
with a mixture of ground soapstone,
plaster of paris, tumeric, indigo and
Prussian blue, made a cheap substi
tute for the leaves of the tea plant.
The combination was appropriately
called “li tea.” This was used in judi
cious mixture with the real article.
An ingenious gentleman devised a
machine which sliced chicory roots in
to ribbons and stamped out artificial
coftee.
Dr. Accum, in England, in an arti
ticle published under the headline,
“Death in the pot,” gave the first real
start to the exhaustive studies since
made, of the scientific side of rascality.
For practical purposes, adulteration
may be considered as fraudulent in in
tention and in performance. There
CLUB PIANOS WITHSTAND BAD
WEATHER.
One of the many advantages en
joyed by the members of The Golden
Age Pjano Club is that Ludden &
Bates’ instruments which are furnish
ed to Club members are especially
constructed to resist the effects of
damp weather. The rainfall in the
South being heavy, and the climate
warm, the air absorbs more moisture
than that of any other section of the
country. Ordinary pianos, built for a
cold, dry climate, frequently “go bad”
in the South. For half a century Lud
den & Bates have conducted one of
the largest piano businesses in the
country, and as most of their pianos
are distributed in the South, they
have naturally given more thought
and study to the requirements of the
Southern climate. As a result, they
have perfected an action which em
ploys five lines of Billings Brass
Flanges which, being impervious to
moisture, prevents the sticking of the
keys in wet weather and the rattling
of the keys in dry weather.
Every reader of The Golden Age
is cordially invited to write for a free
copy of tne handsomely illustrated new
Club catalogue and learn of the many
advantages presented by the Club.
Address Ludden & Bates, The Golden
'Age Piano Club Dept, Atlanta, Ga.
are forms of adding substances which
are not fraudulent in any sense. An
instance is the addition of powder of
dried bread, previously rendered
mouldly by inoculation and special
treatment, to curd, in the process of
making Roquefort cheese, beloved of
the epicure.
Butter is by no means like Cae
sar’s wife —it is not removed from sus
picion for it is colored and frequently
has more or less nasty fat additions.
Pepper, mustard and other condi
ments are almost universally adulter
ated. Flour has specially prepared
corn meal added in some cases. Even
the “busy bee,” the insect that Dr.
Watts besought belated humanity to
emulate, is made the agent in transfer
ring glucose syrup from adjacent
“baits” to sealed comb.
Sausage and the more humble
“Wiener” sausage are artificially col
ored. The candy, which appeals so
strongly to infantile palates has caus
ed death from the coal tar dyes em
ployed in conferring its garish color
ing.
Canning is largely dependent on a
traditional color and the public de
mands and gets it.
Beer is supposed to be the product of
malt and hops only, but salt glucose,
and a dozen or two more injurious
chemiclas are reported to have been in
use. Man’s construction is an elastic
factor in life, but some of the mixtures
that are daily injected, must tax it
heavily. Even the unambitious oyster
has its size doubled for trade pur
poses, by an application of the laws
of sosmosis. The living oyster is tak
en from salt water and plunged into
fresh water. The difference in density
of the two waters causes the oyster to
“plump.” Scrupulously jealous of his
words, the adulterating merchant lies
in his actions. It brings to mind one
of that class who was said to have had
his apprentice water the bacon in or
der to appreciate its weight, mix some
corn meal with the ground pepper,
water the vinegar, etc., etc., follow
ing with the order, “Now, John, come
to prayers.” As Falstaff said, “Lord!
Lord! How the world is given to
lying.”
4- 4»
Representative E. W. Townsend, of
“Chimmie Fadden” fame, said in
Washington, appropos of the misery of
the poor:
“On the one hand we have the mis
ery, and on the other hand we have
a wealth that is often coarse and vul
gar.
“They tell of a New York woman
who once asked her maid:
“ ‘This person who called without
i leaving her name —was she a lady?’
“‘Yes, yes, madam; a perfect lady,’
the maid replied. ‘Her hair was dyed
i the loveliest gold, she was covered
with pearls and diamons, and she
' smelt of Egyptian cigarettes and
’ champagne, madam. ” —St. Louis
Post-Dispatch.
j THE NATIONAL TREE OF CHINA.
> The tung or wood oil tree is worth-
J lly named the national tree of China.
It is stately in appearance, with
> smooth green bark and widespreading
’ branches, affording a fine shade. It
; bears a fruit resembling a shell-bark
r hickory nut, but as large as a small
: orange. iLach nut contains three tri
-5 angular seeds similar to small Brazil
nuts. The oil is pressed from these
, seeds, and the refuse is used as a fer
, tllizer. The oil is used principally for
» polishing woodwork and dressing
; leather. Considerable quantities are
exported. The wood of the tung tree
» is used for making musical instru
-5 ments, fine boxes and the framework
\ of small houses. It is believed that
this tree would flourish in warmer
j parts of the United States. —Scientific)
American.