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THE ADVANCE
AGENT OF HEALTH
WHiil
Miniature Fae-Simile,
EDUCATIONAL.
The leading School and Teachers Bureau
•f the South and Southwest Is the
National Bureau of Education.
Miss Crosthwait and J.W. Bi.Aiß.Prop'rs
Wilcox Building. Nashville, Tenn
Send stamp for informal ou l-’mchly
Boscobel College
FOR YOUNG LADIES.
Dr. J. B. Hawthorne. Pres B< ard Trustees.
Situated In a beautiful grove often acres
of native woodland on an eminence over
looking the city of Nashville. Handsome
buildings, steam heat, hot and cold water.
Excellent advantages in Art and Music.
Native teachers of French and German.
Twenty-five teachers ar d officers. Fifteen
minutes from the centre of the city by elec
tric car Address for Catalogue
Rev. J. 0 Rust Regent or 1 Nashville,
Miss ElizaCrosthwait, Prin. J Tenn.
Bseplßt
Classical School at Rome, Ga.
On the first Monday of September. 1896 the under
pinned will open a school for the preparation of boys
for the University. The Fall term will continue four
months. The Spring term will begin on the first
Monday of January, 1897 ai d continue six months.
Tuition in Classics snd Higher Mathematics, >6 per
month. English studies $4 per month. Number of
pupils limited to twenty. For other informant n,
address
PALEMON J. Prln.
Atlanta Medical College
(OPPOSITE GItAHY HOSPITAL,)
ATLANTA, . . GEORGIA.
The Thirty-ninth Annual Course of
Lectures will commence on
Wednesday, Oct. 7, 1896.
To any one desiring a medical education, the
advantages off< n d are unequaled in the South,
and the reputation of over thirty \ears will be
fully maintained. The best talent, most ap
proved facilities and favorable environment'- ail
blend toward the per'tc ness of medical science
here. More information can be obtained by ad
dressing W. 8. KENDRICK, M. ]).,
Dean Atlanta Medical ( olkge, Atlanta, Ga.
Notice to Teachers 1
WE WANT the name and address o
everv enterprising teacher in the
South. Send stamp for Teacher's
Hand Book.
CHARLES J. PARKER, Manager,
Teachers’ Aid Association,
VSArrSrr. Raleigh, N.C.
Win Railing and Ornamental Wit
Works. *
DUFUR & CO.,
No. 811 N. Howard St., Baltimore, Md.
Manufacture Wire Railings for Cemete.
lea Balconies, Ac.. Sieves. Fenders, Cage
Band and Coal Screens, Woven Wire, Ac
Also bedsteads. Chairs. Settees, Ao. 26 febl
Haggard’s SpecificlTablets.
Act on the nerves, brain and secretory
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tlons: cure all kidney and urinary
troubles; giving vitality and health tc
the entire syst«m; take the place of
whisky and tobacco stimulants, and
cure these pernicious habits. 1 Box $1:
8 Boxes $2 50. Sent by mall on receipt
of price.
Address
HAGGARD SPECIFIC CO.,
Atlanta, Ga.
2julyly
FINE SANITARY PLUMBING
ANILGAS FITTING.
ALL KINDS OF PIPE WORK.
. Heat your house with Hot Water or Steam.
Call on, or write for prices,
Wingate PlumbingJCo.,
23 Auburn Ave., Y M.C A.
Teleophone 1028. Atlanta, Ga.
Do You
Burn Coal?
If SO, see us or write fol
prices before placing youi
order Dealers and man
ufacturers furnished at
strictly mine prices
We handle everything
desirable in COAL
STOCKS coal
COMPANY;
ATLANTA, GA.
®ur
department*
The Smiling Woman.
It is easy enough to be pleasant
When life flows by like a song,
But the woman worth while is the woman
who 11 smile
When everything goes dead wrong.
For the test of the heart Is trouble,
And it always comes with years.
And the smile that Is worth the praise of
earth
Is the smile that shines through tears.
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
In the Moment oi Victory.
In the recently contested
Olympian games, the long race
from Marathon was won by the
young Greek peasant, Sotirios
Loues. There had been no great
parade about the training of this
champion runner. From his work
at the plow he quietly betook
himself to the task of making
Greece victorious before the as
sembled strangers from every
land. He was known to be a
good runner, and without fuss or
bustle he entered himself as a
competitor.
But it was not his speed alone,
outdistane ng every rival, that
made the young Greek stand out
from among his fellows that day.
When he left his cottage home
at Amarus i his father said to
him, “Sotiri, you must only re
turn a victor.”
The light of a firm resolve
shone in the young man’s eye.
The old father was sure that his
boy would win, and so he made
his way to the station, there to
wait till Sotiri should come in
ahead of all the rest. No one
knew the old man and his three
daughters as they elbowed their
way through the crowd. When
at last the excitement of the as
sembled multitude told that the
critical moment had arrived, that
the racers were nearing the goal,
the old father looked up through
eyes that were a little dim as he
realized that truly Sotiri was
leading the way. He was “re
turning a victor.”
How the crowd surged about
the young peasant when the race
was fairly won ! Wild with ex
citement, they knew not how to
shower upon him sufficient praise.
Ladies overwhelmed him with
fl »wers and rings; some even
gave him their watches, and one
American lady bestowed upon
him her jeweled smelling bottle.
The princess embraced him, and
the king himself saluted him in
military fashion.
But the young Sotirios was
seeking for other praise than
theirs. Past the ranks of roy
alty and fair maidenhood, past
the outstretched hands of his
own countrymen, past the ap
plauding crowd of foreigners,
his gaze wandered till it fell upon
an old man trembling with eager
ness, who resolutely pushed his
way through the excited, satis
fied throng.
Then the young face lighted,
and as old Loues advanced to the
innermost circle with arms out
stretched to embrace his boy,
the young victor said, simply :
“You see, father, I have
obeyed.”— The Youth's Companion.
Sunday In Chicago.
Mr. Moody, in addressing the
citizens of Toronto lately, said:
“If any of you people want to
give up the Sabbath, and have it
for a day of recreation, before
you vote just slip on a train, go
to Chicago, stay there thirty
days, then come back and vote to
give up the Sabbath. You will
cut off your right hand first. If
you are a Christian, you will
never cast your vote to - give up
the Sabbath for recreation. The
working-men would make a
great mistake if they should give
up the Sabbath and let it go for
a day of recreation.-, I remember
the time when we didn’t have the
horse cars or the Sunday news
papers in Chicago I remember
how these horse cars got to run
ning; it was to accommodate ti e
church-going people. There are
a few star preachers, and a few
people, who have to go the entire
length of the city to hear a star
preacher. They got the cars,
and it looked as if Satan had got
aboard and said: ‘l’ll take charge
of this now.’ They have emptied
the churches, and all the steam
boats and barges are employed
on Sundays carrying excursions.
There are four hotels on the cor
ner where I um stopping, and
last Saturday night—there had
been a foot-ball match—the boys
shouted their papers until mid
night, and then silence reigned
for twenty four hours. I said:
‘Happy city!’ Thank God for
such a city on the American con
tinent! I believe the greatest
curse we have in America to-day
is our Sunday newspapers. If
you can keep them out, keep
them out. They talk about Tam
many in New York, but I believe
these great dailies that bring out
their paper every day of the
week have done as much harm as
Tammany.”
Lite More Abundant.
The man who is not greater
than his calling has mistaken his
sphere in life. If we read aright
the Creator’s plan, it is to fit men
out with talent and resources
abundant for every demand in
the calling he allots them, also to
leave them surplus to be used and
THE CHRISTIAN INDEX: THURSDAY. OCTOBER 15,1896.
further developed in fields and
opportunities where they touch
life and their fellow men along
other lines.
Hiram Goff, “shoemaker by
the grace of God,” had the skill
and consecration to make shoes
that did his humblest customer
the best service. And at the
same time he was the spiritual
leaderinthecommunity, at whose
feet even the village pastor was
glad to sit and learn lessons of
wisdom for himself and his peo
ple.
The man who is content to be
simply a wheel in the shop, let
ting others plan and think for
him, will not find his crown on
that line. While he cannot be too
faithful to his trust, or too care
ful of the day’s demands, he is
bound to think of himself as one
of the kings in this nineteenth
century, having in his hand the
scepter which bears its sway
for good or ill the wide world
over.
Holding to this he will not
barter his manhood for wages, or
sell his conscience for gain. As
he takes up the day’s routine he
will find mind and heart feeding
and expanding over the thought
of his larger relationship and re
sponsibility in life. And the
thought of this will react upon
the work in hand, glorify and
shape it. He will not stoop to
shoddy work, carve in crumbling
stone, or build with rotten tim
bers. His work will be sought
after. His daily sphere will
widen. Because of the larger
life his soul lives, glory and
honor will crown the very work
of his hands, however lowly.
“Looking Unto Jesus."—An
old legend tells how a man once
asked an Eastern king if he could
tell him how to avoid tempta
tion.
The king told the man to take
a jug brimful of oil and to carry
it through the streets of the city
without spilling one drop
“If one drop is spilt?,” said the
king, “your head shall be cut
off.” And he ordered two exe
cutioners with drawn swords to
walk behind the man and carry
out his orders.
There happened to be a fair
going on in town, and the streets
were crowded with people. How
ever, the man was very careful,
and he returned to the king with
out having spilt one drop of the
oil. Then the kibg asked: “Did
you see anyone whilst you were
walking through the streets ?”
“No,” said the man, “I was only
thinking of the oil; I noticed
nothing else.” “Then,” said the
king, “you notice how to avoid
temptation. Fix your mind upon
God as you fix it on the vessel of
oil; you will not then be tempted
to sin.”
Light of the Home. —The most
beautiful structure on earth was
erected in honor of a woman.
Twenty thousand men for twenty
years wrought constantly. No
marble was too white, no carving
too delicate, no jewels too precious
for this exquisite shrine for the wo
man so greatly beloved by the Em
peror Shah Jehan. Yet what do
we know of Noor Mahal, the wife
sphere of service, a broader recog
nition of the influence of women;
but none of these lessen the vision
of the perfect being whose crown
ing gift shall be her perfect woman
liness.
So, when we judge the character
of any woman, we are not satisfied
with brilliancy of intellect, quick
ness of wit, skill in a profession,
power as an orator, strength as a
leader. It is not enough that she
shall be even a wise mother, a de
voted wife, and faithful friend, un
less permeating all these, diffused
like a celestial atmosphere, is the
spirit of love. — Christian Register.
The Joy of Living —The contribu
tion of Christianity to the joy of living—
perhaps even more to the joy of thinking
—is unspeakable. The joyful life is the
life of the larger mission, the disinter
ested, the life of the overflow from self,
the “ more life, abundant life” which
comes from following Christ. And the
joy of thinking is the larger thinking—
the thinking of the man • who holds in
his hand some programme for human
ity. The Christian is the only man
who has any programme at all—any
programme either for the world or for
himself. Goethe, Byron, Carlyle taught
humanity much, but they had no pro
gramme for it. Byron’s thinking was
suffering; Carlyle’s despair. Christi
anity alone exalts. The belief in the
universe as moral, the interpretation of
history as progress, the faith in good as
eternal, in evil as self-consuming, in
humanity as evolving—these Christian
ideas have transformed 'the malady of
thought into abounding hope.— Prof.
Drummond, in The Programme of Chris
tianity.
At Yol’R Own Door.—Sophia had
been praying for twelve years to be
come a foreign missionary. Ohe day
she had so prayed, and the heave aly
Father seemed to say: ‘' Sophia, stop;
where were you born ?”
“ In Germany, Father.”
“ Where are you now ?”
“In America, Father.”
“ Well, are you not a foreign mission
ary already?” Then the Father said.
“ Who lives on the floor above you ?”
“ A family of Swedes.”
“And who above them ?”
“ Why, some Switzers.”
“Who in the rear?”
“ Italians.”
“ And a block away 1"
“ Some Chinese.”
“ And you a®Vbr said a Word to
these about my Son I Do yon
think tLat I will send you thousands of
m.ilea to the foreigner and heathen
when yon never care enough about
these at your own door to speak with
them about their souls?”— Ex.
Wounded at Gettysburg
In the summer of 1857, a student in a
New England college, a very bright
young man, was to have graduated
wii h honors, but by some deviations
from the rules of the school, his record
was impaired. His father, in his disap
pointment in his son, rebuked him in a
way which angered the young man, and
he vowed he would live at home no
longer, and, uttering abusive language,
he left the house
But his better nature soon reasserted
itself, and he came back to the room he
had so rudely left, and«throwing his
arms around his father's neck, said:
“Father, I have done a very wicked
thing. lam very sorry that I abused
you so. Can you forgive me? I shall
never again do such a thing." The
father’s quick embrace and tender words
removed the agony of guilt from his
broken heart, and there was never again
after that an unkind word between
them.
Several years passed away. The
young man bad gone to the front as a
volunteer, and, as colonel of his regi
ment. was wounded at Gettysburg, and
on the sixteenth day afterward his
father found him. Gangrene had fol
lowed the amputation of the right limb
just below the knee, and had nearly
reached the fatal death-mark. He was
given up to die. There was no hope re
maining. Life was nearly gone. The
embrace he gave his father was feeble.
His voice was that of one about to give
up life “Dear father, how glad lam
to see you once more, but you must do
the talking now. I am almost gone.”
Returning from a short walk with the
surgeon, the father was asked by the
colonel:
“Have you been talking with the sur
geon ? ”
“Yes.”
“What did he say about me?”
“He says you must die."
“How long does he think I can live? ’
“Not more than four days, and you
may go at any moment.”
“Father, you must not let me die
now; lam afraid to die. lam not pre
pared to die. If I must, do tell me
how. I know you can, for I have heard
you do it for others.” The father's
heart was breaking, but this was no
time or place for tears. There was
work to be done and done at once.
There was no hesitation. Instantly the
Holy Spirit said to‘the father: “Tell
him of the school incident That is
what he wants; I have held it in reserve
for this moment.”
“My son, you feel guilty, do you
not? ”
“Yes. That makes me afraid to die.’
“You want to be forgiven, don’t
you ? ”
“Yes. Can Ibe ”
“Certainly.”
“Do make this so plain that I can get
hold of it,” and he raised bis feeble arm
and closed his hand as if to grasp it.
“Do you remember the school inci
dent years ago? ”
“Yes, very distinctly. I was thinking
it all over a few days ago, as I thought
of your coming.”
“Do you remember how you came
back into the house, and, throwing your
arms around my neck, asked me to for
give you? ”
“Yes.”
“What did I say to you? ”
“You said: ‘I forgive you with all my
heart.’ and kissed me.”
“Certainly. I never doubted your
word. ”
“Did* that take away your sense of
guilt?”
“All of it? ”
"Yes.”
“ Weieyou happy at home after that?”
“Yes. It seemed to me more than
ever before. ”
“This is just the thing for you to do
now. Tell Jesus you are sorry you have
abused him, and ask him to forgive you
just as simply and sincerely as you did
me. He says he will forgive you, and
you must take lus word for it, just as
you did mine.” *
“Why, father, is that the way to be
come a Christian?”
“I don’t know of any other.”
“That is simple and plain. I can get
hold of that ”
Very much exhausted by this effort,
the colonel turned his head upon his
pillow to rest. The father, having done
all he could for the dying son, sank into
a chair, and gave way to a flow of
tears, expecting soon to close his son’s
eyes in death. But that painful sus
pense did not last long. A change had
taken place. A new life had come to
that soul. Its-Jfirst utterance changed
the tears to joy.
“Father, youmeed not cry any more.
I don’t want you should. I want you
to sing. It’s all right with me now; I
am happy; Jesus has forgiven me; I
have told him how sorry I am that I
have abused him so, He has forgiven
me, I know he has, for he says he will,
and I have taken his word for it as I did
yours. lam not afraid to die now; but
I don’t think I shall; I feel the stirring
of a new life within me, and with it
comes a feeling of new life in my blood.
I want you to sing that good old hymn
we used to sing when I was a boy, at
family prayers:
“ ‘When I can read my title clear,
To mansions in the skies,
I’ll bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.’”
Immediately the life-current which
was rapidly ebbing away began to flow
back, the pulse beating as the death
rate began to lessen, the eyes to bright
en, the countenance to glow with new
blood, the voice to sound more natural,
the sadness to give place to cheerful
ness and hope. The surgeon coming
in, as was his custom every day, to
watch the rapid progress of the dreaded
gangrene, put his fingers upon the pulse,
and said with great surprise: “Colonel,
your pulse is wonderfully changed; you
look better. What has happened ? ”
“Well,” replied the colonel, “father
has shown me how to be a Christian,
and I have done it. I am better; lam
goin°' to get well,”
Anti, sure enough, the new life in his
heart somehow or other put new
strength into his body, and he still lives
a useful and noble Christian life.—Cen
tral Christian Chimes.
Christ’s Wonderful Love.
Ninety million miles come the sun
beams through space before they touch
the roots and grasses and the flowers
in the spring days, warming and quick
ening them into life and beauty.
Through thousands and thousands of
years out of the great past, comes the
love of Christ that to day touches our
hearts and blesses them with its divine
tenderness. Christ loved his church; he
loved us from eternity. This dear ibve
of his is not a sudden warmth, a recent
affection, a thing of yesterday, an emo
tion kindled by our love for him; he
loved us when he hung on his cross; h*,
loved US before he left heaven and CRme
to earth, drawn by love of ue> to save
tia; he loved us in the eternal ages and
planned to redeem us. Then his love
will be forever unchanging, everlasting.
“Loved once” was never written or
spoken of him. Oh love of Christ that
passeth knowledge I
©lxiXdren’e ffiorner.
AS IDOL.
When grandpa was a sailor he brought an
idol home,
It's twice as big as Mary's doll and ugly as
a gnome;
But all my aunts and uncles, papa and many
more.
Have had It for a plaything when they play
ed upon the floor.
It's very strange to think about the life that
It has led;
I like to play H’s living and has thinkers In
Its head.
Forthen it tells me stories Just like stories
in a book,
Os cannibals and cocoanuts, and conchs,
and Captain Cook.
Once when I went to bed alone, Just to see
how 'twould feel,
1 said ‘ Now 1 lay me” to It, but somehow it
was not real;
And 1 felt so funny after that, 1 sold a box
of toys
To send a missionary to the little heathen
boys.
For 1 think Its very certain when the heath
en children knelt
They couldn’t learn to love It, and probably
they felt
That It was very useless as an Idol, but
'twould make
An Interesting dolly If ’twas only thelr’s to
take.
—Ernest Wbltney In Wide Awake.
We have a number of nice let
ters in the Corner this week, and
some that tell of something done
by the children for missions.
That means something done to
make people acquainted with
Jesus, who do not know him.
We are glad that our little friends
are engaged in such good work.
We have also a sweet letter
from a bereaved mother. A
heathen mother could not write
such a letter, because she has no
hope for her loved babe when it
dies. How sad is the heathen
mother’s lot.
Dear Children:—lam a ‘ grown up
girl,” but I always love to read your
sweet letters in the Index, and last
week when I read the little letter of
limmie and DeWitt McLendon, telling
of the dear little baby brother who had
left them, my heart went out to them,
for I know just how much it means
when I read “we miss him so much at
the table and everywhere. ” I felt like
I wanted to write and tell them I was
passing through the same deep waters
of affliction. God took our darling baby
—our first born and only one, two weeks
ago. He was just learning to walk and
talk, and was more to me, it seemed,
than most babies are to their mothers,
for he was my little companion and
comfort. His “Papa" is a preacher,
and is away from home a great deal,
but the baby was so much company.
How I miss the baby voice, and soft
white hands, the sweet blue eyes look
ing up into my face, and the dear gold
en head on my breast. But I gave him
to God when lie was born, and though
the mother heart cries out in agony at
the separation, I know that God knew
best, and he doeth all things well. My
darling loved all children, and in memo
ry of him, I write and ask you to give
your hearts to Jesus, now in your puri
ty and innocence. God bless you every
one. Yours lovingly.
Mrs. W. E. H.
Dear Index:—ln your paper of Au
gust 27th, you asked several questions
and asked the children to answer them
when we wrote again. As I have not
seen them answered. I will try. I
learned something about it in the For
eign Mission Journal:
Ist. The Foreign Mission Board is a
committee of twenty-one men, appoint
ed by the Southern Baptist Convention
2d. It is located at Richmond, Va.
3d. Its Corresponding Secretary is
Mr. Willingham.
4th This Board has charge of the
Mission interests in general and sup
plies means for our missionaries abroad.
sth. The money is obtained through
the Corresponding Secretaries from the
various Baptist churches.
6th. All who believe in and profess to
follow our Savior ought to give to mis
sions.
We observed Children’s Day, Septem
her 27. It was such a pleasure to work
to fill the little mite boxes.
Mr. Collier, Mr. Smith and Mr. Pen
dleton were present and took part in
the exercises.
Mr. Collier addressed the school on
missions.
The Sunday-school lesson'pictures were
offered as prizes to all who had t>s much
as twenty-five cents in their box, and
the best picture in a neat frame was for
the one who had the most. Miss Cor
nelia Gentry was the fortunate one to
win the first prize. When the money
was counted we found that we had eight
dollars and forty four cents It afford
ed us a great pleasure to know that we
had tried to help, for we love the good
missionaries
Mamina has a sweet friend in China
that we all love very dearly. Her name
is Miss Lula Whilden.
It is too bad that any of the cousins of
the Corner should come to our school
and I not know it. Come again, cousins,
and we will try to be more sociable. I
will close with love to all the cousins of
the Corner, at home and abroad.
Please excuse me for staying so long
and I will try to be shorter next time.
Lovingly,
Bettie Hadaway.
Ingleside, Ga., October 3d, 1896
[One does not object sometimes to a
long visit, if the visitor talks well.— Ed. J
Elberton, Ga., Sept 30th, 1896.
Dear Index:—l’m a little school girl
twelve years old. I have just returned
from a visit over in Oglethorpe county,
visiting my Grandma Bundle’s, and I
learned from her “Index” that you had
set apart a Corner for the children’s let
ters. So I thought I would write up
my visit, and see if you would accept it.
I went to the Sarepta Association at the
“Glade church” two days, and enjoyed
it very much. I formed a great many
new acquaintances with relatives and
friends. I also visited four country
cemeteries; they call them “grave
yards.” In the Glenn graveyard rest
the remains -of my great great-grand
ma and grandpa Glenn, and my great
grandpa Glenn and two wives, and my
grandpa Glenn; also many great-uncles
and aunts. At another graveyard I
visited, were the remains of my great
grandma and grandpa Huff and other
relatives, and at one other were hurried
my great great-grandpa Huff and his
two wives, and great-uncles and aunts.
I stopped school to go, and my visit did
me good.
I will close for fear of the waste
basket. Respectfully,
Glenn Cleveland.
Chamble Station, Oct. 5,1896.
Dear Index: —Here comes the little
country girl again. I thank you kind
ly for saying you hoped to hear from
our work for the Orphans’ Home. We
met September 20th, instead of August
16th, and paid in six dollars and fifty
six cents. There are only twelve mem
bers. Our regular dues are only a pen
ny a month. There |were three books
given by Bro. Eddie as prizes. My sis-
ter’s little girl, Jemell Cox, who lives in
Louisville, Ky., got the first prize. She
belongs to our Band, although she lives
so far away. She is only six years old.
Brother Paul got second prize, Lizzie
Warren and her sister, Ola, got third
prizes. The first prize was a Bible, ser
rnons and pictures; second, Gospel pic
tures and story sermons; third, a nice
Testament. Our dear pastor, Mr.
Twitty, gave us a beautiful talk. lam
glad to say Corinth church has called
him back as pastor, and we children are
so glad. We all love him very much.
On account of his little girl being very
sick, he could not have a protracted
meeting.
We have a good Sunday sshool. Our
superintendent, Mr. W. S. Johnson, is a
good worker and a good man. Papa is
Bible class teacher. Mr. Warren is my
teacher. I don’t think any girl loves to
go to Sunday school better than myself.
I just know “Gray haired Mother” is
good and sweet. She talks so kindly. I
love her though I nevei- have seen her.
But I have a gray-haired mother that I
do see all the time at home.
Next time I come I’ll tell you of a
missionary trip I once made.
Blessings on the Index and all its
writers, most especially “Gray haired
Mother.”
Annie Bell Carroll.
I
I
Powder Springs, Ga.
Dear Index:—l appreciate the
Children's Corner very much, and as I
have not noticed any letters from Pow
der Springs, I thought I would make an 1
attempt to write.
lam a constant reader of the Chr’S- ]
tian Index and have been for some
time, and I certainly do enjoy reading
it, especially the Corner. i
We have a good Sunday-school. Mr.
J. W. Selman is our superintendent;
Mr. Henry Ward, secretary. We also
have prayer meeting every Thursday
night and preaching every second Sun ;
day and Saturday before.
Miss Addie Rice is organist.
Rev. Mr. Spinks, of Atlanta, is our i
pastor.
A protracted meeting began here in
August, on our regular meeting day,"nd
continued one week. There were
eighteen added to the church, all by ex
perience.
Among the many nice letters which
I have read, I certainly did enjoy read
ing Ruth Carlin’s letter from China and
hope she will write again and tell us
more about China
Among the weekly papers that papa
takes, I believe I am partial to the
Christian Index and Marietta Jour
nal
1 will close, with best wishes to the In
dex and all the cousins.
Your little friend,
Violet.
Dover, Ga., Sept. 26, 1896
Dear Index - I have been thinking
I would write to your dear little Corner
for some time, and this afternoon I am
real lonely, so I asked sister Eva to
write for me and I would dictate it.
Would write myself, but yesterday
while climbing a tree I slipped and fell
to the ground and broke my arm. So
lam in the house to-day. The doctor
came right away and set it for me. It
is real painful sometimes.
My mamma died the 28th of last De
cember and left me. I was seven years
old when she died, and I am the baby.
1 am going to live so that I’ll meet her
in heaven. I often wish she could have
lived to see me when I get a young
man.
I have always said I would be a mis
sionary
I have one of “Earnest Willie’s” books.
Mamma gave it to me for a prize. The
prize was offered to the one who had the
largest amount of money in his mite
barrel. I think every boy and girl
should have one of his books. It is
grand.
I will write again soon and tell you
about my Sunday-school.
Love to the Index.
Your little friend,
Alex M. Arnett.
Sylvester, Ga., Sept. 29, 1896.
Dear Index:—As I have never writ
ten before nor seen a letter from this
place, I will write and tell you about
our little town, Sylvester. It is situated
on the B and W railroad, twenty miles
from Albany.
We have one church here, the Baptist.
When we came down here, nearly
two years ago, there were not over fif
teen members, but now it has sixty odd
members, of which I am glad to say I am
one. Rev. W. O. Darsey is our beloved
pastor. We have a large Sunday-school,
with eight teachers and over one hun
dred scholars. My papa is superintend
ent. My Sunday school teacher L Mrs.
McPhaul We all love her. Have
twelve scholars in my class, all girls
about the same size. I go to school.
My teacher's name is Mr. Grubs. We
have sixty odd scholars. I live with
my grandmother and she takes the In
dex, and we are very fond of reading
it. If this letter doesn’t find its way to
the waste basket I will try and write
again. Mittie Jernigan.
Wrightsville. Ga., Sept. 29, ’96
Dear Index;—l see so many letters
from the children I thought I would
write too. I enjoy reading the letters
very much. My papa takes the Index,
and lam so glad he does We have a
good Sunday school, of which I am a
member. My papa is our superintend
ent. Mr. Charlie Kight is my teacher,
and we like him very much. Rev. W.
E. Harville is our pastor, who is loved
by all that know him. This is the fifth
year he has served us. lam not a mem
ber of the church, but I have two sis
ters and one brother that are. My
brother is a Baptist preacher and is now
at Mercer. We observed Missionary
Day last year-and this. If my letter es
capes the waste basket, 1 will write
again.
Your interested friend,
Emma Belle Dickens.
Hammond. Ga , Oct. 3, 1896.
Dear Index:—As there has not been
any one writing from our church, I will
try to write, as I think it is a great
privilege you have given us in allowing
us space in your paper to write to each
other. lam a little girl thirteen years
old. I joined the Baptist church at our
last August meeting. We had a very
good meeting. There were thirteen ad
ditions, two by letter, eleven by experi
ence.
Rev. T. T. Twitty is our beloved pas
tor. He is a good preacher and has
done a great work for our church at
Providence, and we all like him so
much. We hope we can keep him an
other year.
We have a good .Sunday school. My
papa is our superintendent.
My best wishes to the Index and the
Children's Corner.
Mamie E. Langley.
Buchanan, Ga., Oct. sth, 1896.
Dear Index:-Since I have read so
many letters from the little folks, I de
cided to write a few lines also.
I am a little boy seven years old; my
father is a Baptist minister and my
mother is a member of the Baptist
church.
We take the Index and we are always
glad when it conies.
I have two little brothers, one four
years old and the other two years old.
We have a nice school house and a
splendid teacher. I have been going to
school for the last six or seven weeks
and am learning pretty fast. I will
close for the present with love to the
Index and all the little cousins
• Floyd Griffith.
Queer Table Manners.
“ Well, birdies, did you have a nice
time?”
Florence and Mildred had been vis
iting in a queer place. They were spend ■
ing the summer at the seashore and
had bee n taking a very early supper
with the captain of the Life-Saving
Station, a great lover of children—a
man “ ’most as dear and good as Santa
Claus,” as Mildred said
“ But, mamma, there was one thing
queer about it,” said dainty Florence;
‘ the men were kind as they could be,
but they trade funny noises when they
ate, and they put their knives in their
mouths, and they—” but here Flor
ence stopped short, for something in
her mother’s wide-open eyes, fixed
on her, made her remember that none
of these things were quite so rude as
making unkind remarks about people
who have been kind to us, and especial
ly those whom we have visited.
“Oh, mamma, I know it was lots
horrider to say that, than to eat with
forty knives!”; and the color fl-w into
poor Florence’s face, so that mamma
knew that the kind heart of her
lady-daughter had taught her f v . ies
son, so that she need say no more.
“ Mamma, I don’t mean this for im
polite, truly,” said Mildred, who had
waited her turn, “but I liked it because
1 was all the time reminded of mission
ary manners ”
“ What does the child mean ?” asked
Anna, with the air of the grown-up
sister, that always rufll d Mildred a
little.
“ Why they do in those ’way off
plac< s. Miss Munroe says so.”
“ Do what, childie ? I’m not teasing,
dear, but indeed I don’t see what you
mean.”
“ Why, think it polite to make
a noise when they eat, and to eat a
great deal. In Japan they wouldn’t
think we were having a nice time if we
didn’t, and after all, knives in mouths
aren’t as bad as chop sticks, and the
missionary lady at our annual meeting
said she learned to use them the first
year, so as to eat with her new friends
iu their own way.”
“And that day when we laughed,’’
said Florence, holding up her head
once more in her interest iu what Mil
dred had been saying, “ Miss Munroe
said that what we called ‘manners’
were so different iu different places,
that the very politest little girl iu New
York would'be thought very rude in
deed if she should go to visit a little
Japanese girl without taking off her
shoes as she went into the house, and
doing a great many oth> r things that
the polite New York girl would never
think of doing.”
“ Yes,” chimed in Mildred, “Mamie
Merit said she should think it would
be dreadfully ‘mixy-up’ to try to go
around the world being polite all the
way, and never being sure if the people
in one country thought the same
things polite. What was that nice thing
Miss Munroe said, Florie? You always
remember the words of things best.”
“Oh, yes; I know. ‘True politeness
is kind feeling, kindly expressed.’ She
said that was a 'round-the-world rule
of etiquette.”
“ Well done, Mistress Florence,’’
said grandpa, who had been sitting on
the piazza, fast asleep the girls thought,
but really listening with keen ears;
“ Now what would you think of taking
this picture of some fine ladies who are
being very polite, according to their
notions, and writing me an essay about
’round-the-world table manners?”
“ Grandpa,’’ cried both little girls,
looking at the odd picture with frown
ing foreheads, “ an essay in vacation.”
“ Why not ?” said grandpa, “ and
the two who write the best essays shall
go sailing with me to morrow around
Barrow’s Point to Table Rock, where
we will eat a picnic dinner, using the
table manners of all the nations we
can think of.”
Away flew Florence and Mildred to
write their essay. Would you like to
try it too'.’
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