Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

. 1 '""" <% tfnifff ft JkSMrMEjl^xeL ♦ VOL. A WONDERFUL MOTHER GONE MRS. H. B. FOLK MOTHER OF GOV. JOS. W. FOLK OF MISSOURI, THE PREACHERS, SEVERAL EDUCATORS AND CHRIS * TIAN STATESMEN, IS CALLED HOME TO GOD—A NEW CALL TO MOTHERHOOD. T' N the recent death of Mrs. 11. B. Folk, 2L-L the modest but wonderful mother of the famous “Folk Brothers,” the sor rowing thousands who knew her but to love her stand ready to put new emphasis on the meaning of Christian womanhood, while countless other thousands who did not know this great woman in person, but who knew all or either of her justly illustrious sons, are ready to place a new crown on the brow which consecrated MOTHERHOOD wears. And women —true, womanly women every where, her own noble daughters among them, have a new call it seems to me to fall on their knees and ask God to give them children — children that they may train for Him and His cause. My mother’s Bible. It itself ’tis dear, But doubly dear it is, because her hands Once turned its pages, and my moth er’s eyes Persued its heavenly message; as I hold The time-worn volume and unloose its clasps What hallowed memories wake and speak to me! What blest associations of the past Rebind long broken ties, and hold my heart Fast with their magic power! Out of this book My mother drew great riches for her soul, And shared with other souls the prec ious store, There,at this fountain of immortal love Whence flows the river of eternal life, She quenched her spirit’s thirst; here, when the gloom Os some great sorrow overcast her life, She found sweet solace in her favorite psalm, And light in darkness; evermore the face Os her Redeemer and her Saviour smiled Upon her from the pages of this book, INSPIRING VACATION WORK FOR PLUCKY STUDENTS—WRITE THE GOLDEN AGE. ATLANTA, GA., MAY 8, 1913 By WILLIAM D. UPSHAW, Editor. A Memory of Brownsville. It is now seventeen years since I went to historic Brownsville. Tenn., on an invitation from Miss Mary Folk to lecture under the auspices of her “Gleaners.” It was my privi lege—what a priceless memory!—to be guest in the home-like home of Judge and Mrs. H. B. Folk for nearly a week, and those golden days of friendship and fellowship have been to my thought-life and heart-life “like a bunch of camp-phire from the vineyards of Engidi.” Edgar Fok was then, as now, editor of the Baptist and Reflector; Humphrey, the other preacher, was away at college; Reau was in Nashville laying the foundation of his honored public career as Treasurer of Tennessee; Carey Mother's Bible Charles W. Hubner. Mrs. H. B. Folk —A Wonderful Moth .r Gone. Folk was then the ideal President of Browns ville Female College (and he is robbing some great college for women today by being in commercial life in Nashville) ; and Joe Folk, then a young lawyer, had just gone to “bury himself in St. Louis,” his neighbors hardly dreaming that he would so soon come up out of the pit with the greatest reform movement of a generation upon his ample shoulders, crowned by the governorship of his adopted state. I saw his sweetheart, queenly Gertrude Glass, living just next door —and I’ll never be satis fied until I see them both reigning in their modest majesty over the White House in Washington. Misses May and Gertrude Folk were then (Continued on page 6.) And as He spake her heart was com forted. And evermore, no matter how the stress Os daily life ,its tumult and its toil, Its grief, its varying hours of joy and pain, Would thrust itself upon her, she would find Leisure to read this holiest of all books, In meditation’s sacred silence thus Walking with God, and Him, the cru cified. Though many a year has vanished since her hand Lay last upon this book, and hand and heart Have moldered into dust, yet, some how, still Her spiritual presence seems most near, When in my hands I hold this treas ured book; Out of its pages, as I turn them o’e?, My mother’s eyes seem gazing into mine, And a sweet voice that sounds like hers I hear; Therefore, not only for itself alone, But for these thoughts and memories as well, Do I esteem this venerable book, And reverently press it to my heart. ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS A YEAR :: FIVE CENTS A COPY