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2July4t
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THE BAIRNIES’ FEET.
BY MRS. FRANCKS W. GIBSON.
Ina street of Glasgow city.
Full of children at their play,
Stooped a woman,and then something
In her apron hid away.
From the poor, plain gown, her station
At a glance could be described.
But her face, despite its sweetness,
Told of honest Scottish pride.
Then a guardian of the public.
Sure some oredous thin, slic'd found,
Bade her halt, and show the treasure
She had picked up from the ground.
When her apron wide she opened,
He beheld a shining mass,
But no gold nor g-ms there glittered—
It was only b oken glass.
To the question stern, “ What valuy
in sic like things do ye see.
Thus to tak’ them?" came the answer,
Full of sweet simplicity:
» When 1 saw the bonnle balrnles,
Rlnnln' baretlt 1’ 'he street.
The bits o' glass I lifted, fearin'
They might hurt the pulr wee feet,”
Oh for more such Chrlstllke spirit.
More such hearts with love replete,
Then all stumbling blocks might vanish
That would '• hurt the bairn les' feet."
-Ex.
A Clue to Ownership.
An advertisement was printed
last week in a daily journal of
New York stating that, “if Rob
ert wished to recover his parrot,”
he could do so by calling at acer
tain address and paying ex
penses. A reporter, whose cu
riosity had been stirred by the
wording of the advertisement,
called at the address given and
asked its meaning. The adver
tiser admitted that she did not
know who “Ribart” was. She
said that her husband had bought
a parrot which talked volubly.
Certain circumstances had come
to his knowledge afterward which
led him to believe that the per
sons who sold him the bird had
not acquired it honestly. Being
honest people themselves they
wished to hud the rightful owner,
but did not know how to discover
him. The parrot had furnished
the only promising clue It was
continually calling for “Robert,”
and the inference was drawn that
it had keen in some home where
Robert was often called. The
idea of publishing an advertise
ment inviting Robert to come for
the bird was accordingly adopted.
It would be well if tne world,
reasoning on the same lines,
could always infer to whom the
Christian belongs. Frequent
pirrot-like references to his Lord
would savor of cant in a man,but
his conversation, even with peo
ple who know not God, should be
of such a character as to show to
whom he gives allegiance.
They took knowledge of them that had
been with Jesus. (Acts 1:18,)
—Christian Herald,
Helped by Being Hindered.
—There is nothing we have more
cause to be grateful for than
hindrances and obstacles. Hav
ing an easy time is having a
hard time If we are slipping
or sliding, we are not going up
hill; yet going up hill is essen
tial to an outlook from a lofty
summit. Mountain climbing is
better than hammock swinging
for him who would gain strength
and develop his muscles; but it
requires energy and effort to re
sist hindrances and overcome ob
stacles. It goes against nature;
and that is one reason why it is
better for a man. If a young
man has to work for a living, he
is more likely to succeed than if
he has everything he wants. If
his studies are not in the line of
his inclinations, he can gain
more from them than f they were
all in the direction of his tastes
and fancies Even when he is
interrupted in his studies, and is
compelled by the state of his
health or the needs of others to
turn aside from his chosen pur
suit, he may be the gainer be
yond his highest anticipations;
for his best self is called out in
the meeting or the enduring of
unlooked-for burdens and trials.
A moral and mental gymnasium
is sure to be furnished with ap
pliances for exercising the mus
cles and testing and taxing the
strength. Rocking-cl airs and
lounges have no place there. —
Sunday School Times.
Prince Albert, thebeloved and
lamented husband of Queen Vic
toria, was a devout and sincere
Christian, governing his walk
and conversation by the laws
and teachings of the Master. In
taking possession of Osborne
House when completed on the
Isle of Wight, he gathered the
royal family about' him and
offered this beautiful prayer
written years before by Martin
Luther;
“ God bless our going out, no less
Our coining in, and make them sure,
God bless our daily bread, and bless
Whate’er we do; whate’er endure;
In death unto his peace awake us,
And heirs of his salvation make us.”
What earthly home thus conse
crated could fail to receive God’s
blessing ar d approval, and send
forth sweet influences for good
to those outside its portals ? The
Prince Consort left behind him
a shining example in his right
eous and pure life, worthy imi
tation —Mrs. A. C. Meyer, in
Table Talk.
Ram s Horn -. The greatest waste
of time we can be guilty of in this
world, is to neglect to prepare
for the next
Subscribe for the Christian
| INDEX.
THE CHRISTIAN INDEX: THURSDAY. AUGUST 13,1886.
A Purified Conscience.
When a sin is committed, it makes a
stain on the conscience, and the stain
burns. This pain is the hint of nature
to seek the removal of the sin. But, if
it is not taken, the pain in time as
suages; and stain may be added to stain,
until the conscience is defiled through
and through.
In such a defiled conscience there are
terrible latent possibilities, for the pain
may at any time break out again. Some
times it does so in time when a man is
awakened to a sense of his bid past,and
in pain and tears cries out for deliver
ance from it. Sometimes it is by the
sudden apparition of eternity, in which
it can perceive nothing but a fearful
menace of judgment, that the conscience
is aroused. W e have reason to believe
that the latent pain of unpardoned sin.
if it is not experienced in time, will
break out all the more intolerably be
yond the veil.
Can this defilement be removed? This
surely is the question for every child of
Adam; for what conscience is there
which has not been stained with sin? It
is a question which the conscience itself
cannot answer. Conscience prescribes
our duty, and rewards us if we perform
it. If we fail, it fills us with alarms and
forebodings, but it cannot tell how these
may be removed This honor belongs to
the gospel Os Christ Like the law.con
-Blienee is a schoolmaster to bring us to
Christ Conscience may be compared to a
stern guide, who gives a lantern to a crip
ple, and orders him to go the way which
the light reveals,on pain of death; but it
has no concern for his pitiful inability
to surmount the difficult path It is
Christ who heals the cripple, putting
strength into his feet and ankle-bones,
so that he walks and leaps and praises
God. Yet it i» questionable if any one
can appreciate the blood which eleans
eth us from all sin who has not felt the
shame and pain of a conscience defiled,
or if any one can understand the easi
ness of the yoke of Christ who has not
felt his I on°s broken by the yoke of the
law. Though conscience does not of it
self know the way to reconciliation, j r et
it wanders restless and excited till it
catches sight of Calvary, when its eye
kindles like that of the exile who sees on
the horizon the cliffs of his native land;
and, when it reaches the cross, it pitches
its tent there forever. — Janies Stalker,
b b.
On tbe Whole.
The only right way to treat one's fel
low beings is to trust them. And in
the long run, the right attitude justifies
itself; the minority may betray our
confidence, but the majority repay trust
by proving trustworthy. For one
cheat, there are nine honest men, as
even the cynic must acknowledge; for,
without such a predominance of hon
esty, the public would have learned,
long ago, mver to answer an adver
tisement nor subscribe toward any pro
ject. so that the very fact that they
are easily cheated shows that they gen
erally get their money's worth For
every woman who is a bad neighbor,
there are a dozen kind and helpful ones,
ready to nurse the sick and sympathize
with the sorrowing. For every liar
there are multitudes who are habitu
ally sincere,—though perhaps occasion
ally mistaken. Gratitude must be the
usual and natural thing, or else ingrati
tude would never be noticed, much less
reprobated. Love is far oftener met
with than hate, though the latter is apt
to make so much more fuss that it im
presses the casual observer out of pro
portion to its prevalence. The man
who has confidence in others as being
on the whole as good as he is (and often
better), is not apt to be disappointed in
the end, taking one year with another;
and certainly he has a happier, serener,
pleasanter life of it than if he were
forever barricading himself behind pre
cautions and suspicions. If we believe
in our fellow men, the belief helps them
to do their best, and. more than that,
keeps our own natures sweet. Even
that representative cynic. La Rochefou
cauld, admits this, when he says: “ It is
more shameful to distrust one's friends,
than to be deceived by them ” And
our own Lowell, from his higher stand
point, strikes a ringing and positive
note, when he tells us to
“Be noble, and the nobleness that lies
In other men sleeping,but never dead,
Shall rise in majesty to meet thine
own” —lnterior.
Tenderness Tenderness
does not mean weakness, soft
ness, effeminateness. It is con
sistent with strength, manliness,
truth, and bravery. It does not
show itself alone in the touch,but
in unselfishness, thoughtfulness,
considerateness, forbearance, pa
tience, long suffering. But how
ever it shows itself, it is as the
bloom on the peach, as spring
showers on the earth, as the
music of the angels stealing down
on the plains of Bethlehem. You
may not have much of this world’s
wealth to distribute,but you may
give something better and spend
a useful and beneficent life,if you
will practice this lesson of shed
ding around you the grace of hu
man tenderness, in word and act
and by the spirit of your life—
Rev. F. B. Meyer.
Jt is right to set a high value
upon our opinions, but it is ab
surd to set an opinion over
against a matter of fact. And it
is just as absurd to claim that our
opinion about any matter is as
good as any other man’s opinion.
Every man has a right to an
opinion, but he has no right to
an opinion that disputes a fact,
nor has he a right to an opinion
formed in ignorance which dis
putes an intelligent opinion.
There are not many people who
contend that their way of spell
ing a word is the right way,
whatever the dictionary may
say; but there are multitudes
who think that their doctrine is
the right doctrine because it
agrees with their opinions. We
are not saved by opinions, but
by faith.— Richmond Christian Ad
vocate.
When every ninth day’s wages
of the laborers of this country
are handed over to the liquor
dealers, putting about $900,000,-
000 annually into their coffers—or
about sl3 for every man, woman
and child —we need not be sur
prised at the power of million
aire brewers and distillers, and
the influence of whisky men and
lobbyists over immoral politi
cians and feeble-minded legisla
tors. To shorten or lengthen their,
lease of power is with the people.
For the Ind»x.
Grandmother s Bonnet and Bag
BY JULIA B. REED.
“Well, 1 thought I was to have a
taste of fresh air; but, instead, 1 am
tossed up in the dust again Just be
cause I have turned a little brown—
there is not a hole in me - those imperti
nent children say 1 am good for nothing
but the rats. It seems to me, even
were I past use, my honorable posi
tion in days gone by call for respect
at least. 1 heard more than one deacon
of old Mt. Ararat church say he didn't
have to raise his eyes higher than sister
Sanford's bag to know who was coming
down the aisle-
“I was never known to miss prayer
meeting, and every child in tne Sab
bath school knew I carried peppermint
drops and Scripture cards. Yet, now I
can go nowhere, and do nothing, but lie
up here, rusting out, and think how
different it might have been.
“I used to tret a good deal over the
same things—l believe 1 cried a little; ’
and a low, half apologetic laugh blew
oft some of the dust from the closet
shelf. “But, after awhile came back to
me grandmother’s words about count
ing jo ir blessings, and, do you know
|' he'bonnet drew np to the bag in a con
fidential way] each day I find so many
new ones I have not a moment left for
looking back.
“Then, too,” continued the bonnet,
“I have been quite busy of late rocking
the mice to sleep and keeping them
covered—they are cunning little erea
tures. lam their cradle, you know.”
And again sounded the laugh that
neither rat-nests nor cobwebs could
stifle.
The bag was puzzled. “You are
certainly very odd,” - it said at last.
"But how can you laugh in such a
place? You stay in the darkest, dusti
est corner on the shell - and then the
rats! Ooh!”
“O, well, I have my strings left, if
they have eaten off most of my back.”
And the mice just then wondered what
gentle wind, with a song in it, was
swaying their cradle.
“Well, I do not understand it," said
the bag, “but it does sound pleasant.
Do you know, for a long time I’ve been
hearing you laugh and thought it was
those ugly children mocking me through
the crack in the door. “ Now, haven't
I been a silly old thing! ”
“Remember grandmothers motto,"
whispered the bonnet: "Look forward,
not back.” Raising her voice:
“You were speaking of not being able
to do anything. Possibly you were
never in ihe room when grandmother
gathered the children around her and
read from that beautiful, wonderful
book about the 'To Be’s. ’
* Dear, me! there are so many; There's
be pure, be patient, be gentle, be thank
ful, be true, be meek, be forgiving, be
contented, be loving—and still others I
cannot recall. Grandmother said some
day her children might not be able to
do, but they could always be. And—”
the bonnet hesitated, then resumed
timidly, "I have been trying to be a
To Be since I was thrown up here in
the dark. It is a good place in which to
think and remember. When Miss Ma
tilde was ill, grandmother went to see
her, and as she bent down to kiss her,
she said something about the hands
being folded that they might learn to be
still. I am not quite sure as to the
meaning, but I think it is that when
you become restless about doing, you
are ofttimes made useless that you may
learn to be good, instead of to do good. ”
"You are good,” said the bag, with
warm emphasis, ‘ 'and always doing good
(strange to me) without seeming to try.
I've seen many great people, and heard
many grand things, but nothing ever
sounded half so fine as your laugh,
sweet as a bird’s song, while the rats are
chewing you and tbe cobwebs choking
you.”
“Well, dear,” replied the bonnet,
laughing and crying at the same time,
"grandmother always said to the chil
dren: ‘lf you be good, you will do good,
for to be, means to love, and to love
means to do.’ ”
Just here Edna Martin waked, and lo!
it was all a dream.
The next night, laying her hand in
her father's, she looked up sweetly and
said, “Papa, I have found out why the
pain came ” Vividly she repeated her
dream. Dr Martin listened attentively,
much touched.
“ The Lord Jesus,” she continued,
“sent the dream because I wasn't loving
a bit, and was just doing all the time
because well because I thought I
must. Grandmother said that was only
duty. And duty is so hard; but love is
just as easy. Now I am going to lie
real still” —with a smile she touched the
helpless, bandaged limb —“and be a To
Be, and laugh no matter how badly the
pain hurts.” And she laughed out mer
rily, as though to test her resolution.
It was past Edna’s sleepy hour, and
the stillness of the room was as a lulla
by. The eyelids quivered helplessly,
but the voice freed itself long enough to
say:
“Papa, you have to live real close to
Jesus every day to be a sure enough To
Be.”
A little sigh, like a bubble burst, and
sleep’s chains were riveted.
Eatonton, Ga.
A Kindly Deed.
A writer tells in the Boston Gazette, of
a Is dy who was traveling from Provi
dence to Boston with her weak minded
father Before they arrived there he
became possessed of a fancy that he
must get off the train while it was still
in motion, that some absolute duty called
him. His daughter endeavored to quiet
him, but it was difficult to do it; and
she was just giving up in despair, when
she noticed a very large man watching
the proceedings intently over the top
o ' h’s newspaper. As soon as he caught
her eyes he rose and crossed quickly to
h-r.
“I beg your pardon,” he said. “You
are in trouble. May I help you ? She
explained the situation to him. “What
is your father’s name? ” he asked.
She told him, and with an encourag
ing smile he bent over the gentleman
who was sitting in front of her, and
said a few words in his ear. With a
smile the gentleman arose, crossed the
aisle, and took the vacant seat; and the
next moment the large man had turned
over the seat, and, leaning toward the
troubled old man, had addressed him
by name, shaken hands cordially, and
engaged him in a conversation so in
teresting and so cleverly arranged to
keep his mind occupied, that he forgot
his need to leave the train, and did not
think of it again until they were in
Boston. Here the stranger put the
lady and her charge into a carriage, re
ceived her assurance that she felt per
fectly safe, had cordially shaken her
hand, and was about to close the car
riage door, when she remembered that
she had felt so safe in the keeping of
this noble looking man that she had not
even asked his name. Hastily putting
her hand against the door, she said:
“Pardon me; but you have rendered me
such a service, may I not know whom I
amthanking?”
The big man smiled as he answered,
"Phillips Brooks, ’ and turned away.
©hitdren’e (Corner,
1)0 YOUR BEST.
Whatever you do, my little man,
Dolt the very best you eai>.
Tim * speeds alo g. and day by day,
Lite Is hastening away.
Then what you do. my little men,
Do it the very best you can.
God made the world In which we dwell,
And all things of bls goodness tell.
The Howers bloom, tin- grasses spring.
The bright s in shines,tlmsw et birds sing,
And If you think. I'm sure you'll say,
They do their very best eat h day.
Then do your best, nr little man,
You'll find it Is the nobl <r plan
The world Is ne»*oing such ns you.
If when you work you woi k with cure.
And when you play, you’re fair and square,
There II be a p ace for you, my man.
1 f you but do the best you can.
- jknnik L. Lyall.
We have some nice letters this week,
and we would like to say a word about
each one; but that would take up too
much space, and might crowd out some
little writer. And that would not do
at all. for we all must know that this
“Corner” belongs to the little folks.
We shall have to say, however that
Ruby Fleming’s letter made a tired ed
itor, in a hot city office, feel very much
like running away to the country. And
as he could not do that, he sat awhile
and thought about the time when he
used to go to his grand mother's, and she
fed him on figs and pomegranates in the
summer, and oranges in the winter,
and candy and all sorts of “goodies’’
between times. Bless the dear old
grandmothers. They know how to
make little hearts happy. And little
hearts ought to try to make them happy
by loving obedience and sweet little
attentions.
Smyrna Ga., July3l, 1896
Dear Index: —Here lam again A
thought struck me very forcibly this
morning, thinking how many children
there are in the world, and how many
of them ever thought how manj’ little
kind words would be spoken, or bow
many kind acts w< uld be performed,
should each of them avail themselves of
every opportunity which presents itself
to them in life.
So many times has just one kind word
silenced an aching heart, or hearts. We
do mt always know how much good
we do by a kind act or kind words.
But that is all right. Bnt when we are
made to realize that our words or acts
of kindness have done good, how it does
help our own feelings
To be happy is to make others happy
Oh! if such were practiced more, by old
and young, how nice and how pleasant
it would be.
Let us therefore follow after things
which make for peace, and things
wherewith one may edify another.
Humming Bird.
Blakely, Ga., Augusts. 1896
Dear Index: —DeVotie Hobbs is Un
cle Jimmie’s monthly correspondent for
the Children’s Corner. She and I are
good little friends, like David and Jon
athan in to day’s Sunday school lesson,
and I write for her this week. I am a
little girl eight years old, and this is
my first effort I have been off on a
visit of three weeks to my grandfather
and mother in Cuthbert. Well, 1 had
all kinds of fine fruit, peaches and
grapes especially, and everything nice,
such as a good grandmother knows how
to fix. I belong to the Sunbeams and
enjoy going. I heard the superintend
ent of the Sunday-school say this morn
ing that Jesus is our best friend, and
will be more to me, if I love him. than
David was to Jonathan. lam going to
try to love him and make him my best
friend.
Your friend.
Ruby Fleming.
Atlanta, July 26 1896
Dear Index:—l enjoy the Children’s
Corner so much that I will try to write
a few lines I attend the Sabbath
school at West End We have ten
teachers and about 150 pupils. Prof.
Landrum is our superintendent, and we
believe no school has a better. Rev. S
Y. Jameson is our pastor, and has been
ever since the church was organized in
1888; so you know we think our preacher
is the best also. We have a good choir,
excellent teachers, and, as a rule,
pupils who study the lessons. The
teachers’ meeting is held on Thursday
evenings, so the teachers are prepared
to help us on the Sabbath in Bible study.
I think I can answer the question of
Ula Butts. In Genesis 23 we read
that Abraham bought the cave of Mach
pelah, and he paid 400 shekels of silver
for it, weighing the money.
Your friend.
Spencer Kicklighter.
Barnett. Ga., August 2, 1896.
Dear Index:—l cannot go to Sab
bath-school to day, and would like to
take a seat In the “Corner” with the
Index children, and tell them that our
Sunday-school class learn their lessons
well. Mrs Helen Chapman is our
teacher and papa is our superinten
dent. Rev. T. J. Cumings, pastor of
the church, preached last Sabbath about
Queen Vashti, so beautiful and fair.
Will some of the children tell why the
king was so angry with her?
Mother thinks that I have improved in
reading since 1 have been reading the
Index, She says, tell “Earnest Willie”
to “Dream” again, and wake up at
Mercer. I enjoyed “ Kitty’s Happy
Thought,” and the history of "Mary's
Little Lamb.”
With thanks to the editors for print
ing my first letter,
I am very truly,
Allen Turner.
Tallapoosa, Ga., July 27. 1896.
Dear Index: —I like to read in the
Children’s Corner, and thought I would
write a short letter. I hope it won’t
find its way to the waste basl et. 1 am *
little girl nine years old. I go to Sunday
school. Mr. Patrick is our superinten
dent, and Bro. McCutchen is our pastor.
We all love him. I have three sisters
and.a lot of little friends I love, out
here. My papa works on the railroad.
He is not at home much. We have a
horse, and I like to ride, I am always
glad for the Index to get here. 1 like
to read it. I must close.
Maud Groce.
Bowman, Ga., July 25, ’96
Dear Index: —As my other letter
escaped that awful waste basket, I will
write again, first asking you to please cor
rect all errors. Our Sunday-school is very
flourishing now. The Sunday School
Convention convened with Rehoboth
church, July 14-15. I think there was
a very large crowd present on Wednes
day. I was not there on Tuesday. Rev.
R. H. Smith made an excellent speech
at 10 a. m., and Dr. Jno. G. Gibson
preached at 11 a. m. So I close by ask
ing one question. What is it we read
about in the Bible that was born with
out a soul, but once had a soul, yet at
last died without a soul?
Andy Smith.
Ingleside, Ga.
| Dear Index:—Here I come again.
Our protracted meeting commenced on
Friday before the third Sunday in July
and dosed the last Sunday in the
month. There were two additions by
letter.
I have just returned from Sunday
school. There were fifty two present.
“Gray-haired Mother," won't you
step in and have another chat with us ?
I enjoyed your letter ever so much. I
am a member of a Baptist church. I
joined two years ago last March at
Chestnut Street church, Gainesville,
Ga.
I could not tell all the names of the
books I have read this year, bnt will
give only a few. They are as follows:
Clara; P igrim's Progress; Bessie Peas
ant and Prince; Grandpa Goodwin;
Sketches from Life; Effie’s Home;
Gospel Story: Sketches from the Fire
side; A Child's Story of the Bible, and
others taken from the school library. I
love to read, and had rather read a
good book than do anything else. Ido
love to read the Index, and especially
the Corner. I am always hungry for
the Corner and I turn to it first thing,
and when I am through it I read the
Home Department There was a fine
piece in the lastpapei entitled "Kitty’s
Happy Thought.” My best wishes to
the Index Lovingly.
Bettie H.
Pow elton, Ga , August 3. 1896.
Dear Index;—l am a little girl
eleven years old, and have been read
ing the nice letters in the Children’s
Corner. Are you willing to let me join
the band ?
Poweltonisan old town and is closely
connected with the Baptist history of
the State. The church is one hundred
and ten*/eats old Ths house in which
Rev. Jesse Mercer lived while pastor
of the church, is now occupied by Mrs
Miller. I live in the house where Dr.
A. J. Battle was born This is a long
town, beginning at the Baptist church
and ending at tbe M. E church. If
any of my little friends who write for
the Cnildren’s Corner wish a full de
scription of this town, they can get it
by reading Col. R M Johnston’s “Old
Mark Langston,” a story of Dukesbor
ough Dukesborough is Powelton.
If) ou take me into your circle I will
tell some things of our church and Sun
day-school in my next.
Yours in love,
Mera Chapman.
McHenry, July 31
Dear Index: —I do think it so nice
for the chileren to have a corner in your
paper, and I am glad to see so many of
them writing. I thought it might be
that some one would be glad to hear
from our church, known as Salem Gor
don. Our former pastor's name is well
known and loved by all who know him.
J. J S Callaway. Our present pastor's
name is J. G. Hunt. We have an ever
green Sabbath-school, of which my fa
ther is superintendent and my oldest
brother the secretary Bro. R L Mc-
Whorter and wife and daughter furnish
us with good music Ido love the Sab
bath school. We number about sev
enty and have an average of forty. I
will close for this time, for fear I tire
you out with something not much in
teresting. • Carl Aycock.
Norwood, Ga., August 1,1896.
Dear Index:—l have been thinking
of writing for the Children's Corner for
a long time. But I hardly know how
to begin. I was afraid that it would
find its way to the waste basket. I go
to school every day and to Sunday
school every Sunday. Our superin
tendent is Mr. B. W. Tucker. My
teacher is my Uncle Jimmie Chapman
We have a large class. We have a good
Sunday school. Ourpaatoris Mr. W. M.
Davis, of White Plains, Ga. We all
like him very much. Our meeting will
commence on Friday before the second
Sunday, at Williams Creek church. I
hope we will have a good meeting. I
will close for this time.
Your little friend,
Della Hendrick.
’ Brownwood, Ga.
Dear Index:—Dr. T. A. Chappell is
our superintendent and he instructs the
senior class. We have five lady teach
ers and about fifty five scholars in our
Sunday school Miss Anrie Mae Hill
is our organist She is a good performer.
We use "Bright Gems,” ind the song I
like best is, "His Yoke is Easy.”
What king in the Bible committed
suicide to keep it from being said that a
woman slew him ?
Children, let us take Bible subjects
and write short letters on them for our
Corner. I think it would be nice, and
we want to make our column instruct
ive, as the rest of the paper is.
Sunflower.
Mayfield, Ga., August 4, 1896.
Dear Index:—l am a stranger and I
come asking a question.
Will L E Morris please tell me
where I can get “Mother, Home, and
Heaven,” and the price ? I have read
over forty books, all selected for me
though. I take the Youth's Companion.
L. E. Morris has read “Little Women”
and I have read “ Little Men.”
Your unknown friend,
Bessie Reynolds.
P. S Would like to correspond with
girls about my age, which is thirteen.
Dear Index: —Vienna is a pleasant
little town situated on G. S. & F. R. R.
Our Sunday school is a pleasant place
to go to every Sunday morning. We
miss our superintendent. He is over in
South Carolina, but will be lumie next
Sunday, and I know he will have some
thing nice to tell us. When I get to be
a man I am going to try to talk, and
stand by the organ and sing and keep
time with my pencil, just like he does.
Your new friend,
Wm. Henry B.
Boys and Girls in China.
“School is out, and now for fun ”is the
joyful cry of the children in America.
“Now for picnicking, lawn parties,
seashore, boating, and many happy
times !” So it is in this Christian land.
Bnt alas for the boys and girls in China!
They do not expect any such good
times. To be sure they have the New
Year’s time and celebration, which is
something like our Fourth of July; but
the fireworks are handled by the
grown people.
Having lived in ®hina till I was
nearly ten years, and then having come
to America, the contrast which I see is
very great.
Chins is a heathen country, and
everything about it is heathen. But
America is a Christian land, where the
Sabbath day is observed—truly a de
light! But one thing 1 enjoy as much
as any is the freedom of going about as
I want to, from one place to another.
In China, as many of you know, the
cities are walled in by great brick walls
with stone foundations, that no enemy
may intrude. These walls have four
gates, at the four sides of the city.
The gates are made of heavy, massive
wood, plated with iron These great
gates are closed at sunset, and the key
taken to the city magistrate, to be kept
till morning, or sunrise. From the
words in the Bible, it seems to me that
this must have been the way in ancient
Palestine.
In China the houses are inclosed by
high walls, and the rooms back against
them, so that their windows all face
upon a little paved court in the centre.
The streets of China are narrow and
very filthy, because they are never
cleaned of the garbage. There are
pigs and dogs, and often hens, roaming
in the street, rooting their food out of
the garbage. The pigs are black and
dirty, and the dogs lean and lame.
Riding is done in a cart—a saratoga
trunli-shaped framework, covered with
blue cotton cloth, having two wheels
and no springs. And, oh, such roads as
those in China, full of the deepest ruts !
A mule is harnessed into the shafts;
there are two windows (small, with glass
in them), one on either side of the cart.
A curtain hangs in front to hide the
rider. Wouldn't you be glad not to
have to see these things all the time?
You know how the little girls have to
have their feet bound when they are
from four to five years old, and how it
hurts them. But they say, “Ifwe do
not have them bound, we will never
get a mother in-law.” Now it is a
great disgrace not to be married in
China, and so the little girls sacrifice
their comfort, and let their feet be
bound. If they did not they would be
laughed at.
From the time the girls are ten or
eleven years old until they are in mid
dle life, they are not allowed to go on
the streets unattended,and very seldom
even then.
Do you ask, ‘ ‘How can they occupy
themselves ?” 1 will tell you some of
the things that they d>. The Chinese
make very'beautiful kites, often from
five to six feet wide. The boys fly them
on the house-tops (some of which are
flat, and never more than one story
high where we lived). They often are
in the shape of a man with outstretched
arms and a fierce look on his face, and
flourishing a sword or dagger: or, per
haps, a large basket is brilliantly
painted with most beautiful flowers (to
their-eye the lotus flower and the sweet
jessamine are most to be desired).
The girls make pretty baskets, and
carts, and people, out of the stiff corn
stalk-reeds, used f>r firewood. These
are often very pretty, and amuse the
little brothers and sisters whom they
are taking care of. There are but very
few toy stores in China. There are
places where kites and lanterns are
made
One of the many feast days is known
as ‘ Lantern Day,” on which every one
who can carries a lantern. These aTe
made very prettily, sometimes in the
shape of a large basket w ith fringes of
blue and red paper, and with three or
more paper fishes attached to a wire
moving around in the middle of the
basket The fringes are never made of
white paper on special occasions like
this, because white is the color of
mourning There is a pin wheel made
of paper in the 'inside that revolves
when the candles are burning On
some of these lanterns men are making
very low bows to each other, as they do
at the New Year's.
The poor children in China have very
little sum hine in their lives, especially
the little girls. They are often the
subjects of abuse. Often a mother or a
father who has a very high temper, will
beat a son or daughter unmsrcifully. •
Let us pray fcr these poor children,
and help to send the gospel of Christ
into their homes through missionaries.
Can we not ? Mary E. Pierson.
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