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tfehl REV. |
fl|j T. DEWITT:
TALMAGE ;
I In one of his wonderful sermons g
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EDUCATIONAL.
The leading School and Teachers Bureau
•f the South and Southwest Is the
National Bureau of Education.
Miss Crobthwait and J.W. Blair,Prop'rs
Wilcox Building, Nashville, Tenn
Send stamp for Informal .on. 12mchly
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Excellent advantages in Art and Music.
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minutes from the centre of the city by elec
tric car Address for catalogue
Rev. J.O Rust Regent, or I Nashville,
Miss Eliza Ckosthwait, Prln. f Tenn.
SseplSt
ClassicalJSchool at Rome, Ga.
On the first Monday of September, 1896 the under
signed 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 and continue six months.
Tuition in Classics and Higher Mathematics, $6 per
month. English studies per month. Number of
pupils limited to twenty. For other information,
address
PALEMON J. KINO, Prln.
Atlanta Medical College
(opposite cbady hospital,)
ATLANTA, . . GEORGIA.
The Thirty-ninth Annual Course of
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To any one desiring a medical education, the
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here. More information can lie obtained by ad
dressing W. S. KENDRICK, M D ,
Dean Atlanta Medical College, Atlanta, Ga.
Notice to Teachers!
WE WANT the name and address o
every enterprising teacher In the
South. Bend stamp for Teacher's
Hand Book.'
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Teachers’ Aid Association,
naprtm Raleigh. N.C.
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UNANSWERED TET.
Unanswered yet? the prayer your lips have
pleaded,
In agony of her heart these many years ?
Does faith begin to fall, Is hope departing,
And tnlnk you all in vain those falling
tears ?
Say not the Father hath not heard your
prayer;
You shall have your desire,some time, some
whore!
Unanswered yet? nay, do not say ungranted,
Perhaps your part is not yet w holly done,
The work began when first your pray, r was
uttered,
And Jod will finish what he has begun.
If you will keep the incense burning there,
His glory you shall set, sometime, some
where!
Unanswered yet? Faith cannot be un
answered.
Her feet were firmly the Rock;
Amidst the wildest storms she stands un
daunted.
Nor quails before the loudest thunder
shock.
She knows Omnipotence has heard her
prayer.
And cries, “Itshall be done," sometime,
somewhere! —Selected.
How Jesus Came.
There is a beautiful story told
in Stevenson's “Praying and
Working”—about a little child in
the orphanage of John Falk at
Weimar. They were having sup
per in the dining-hall, and the
teacher gave thanks, as usual, say
ing, “Come, Lord Jesus, and be
our guest to-night, and bless the
mercies which thou hast provid
ed.” One little boy looked up
and said, “Teacher, you always
ask the Lord Jesus to come, but
he never comes. Will he ever
come?” “Oh, yes; if you will
only hold on in faith, he will be
sure to come.” “Very well,” said
the little boy, “I will set a chair
for him beside me here to-night
to be ready when he comes.” And
so the meal proceeded. By-and
by there came a rap at the door,
and there was ushered in a poor,
half-frozen apprentice. lie was
taken to the fire and his hands
warmed. Then he was asked to
partake of the meal, and where
should he go but to the chair
which the little boy had provid
ed? And as he sat down there
the little boy looked up with a
light in his eye and said, “Teach
er, I see it now! The Lord Jesus
was not able to come himself, and
he sent this poor man in his place.
Isn't that it?”
Ay, that is just it. And so,
brethren, the Lord Jesus isn’t
able, according to his plans for
this world, to come personally
yet among us, but he has sent
those colored people, Chinese, In
dians and heathen, to make ap
peal in his behalf to us; and who
among us will set a chair for him?
There are many friends with
whom I hardly agree who are very
anxiously waiting for the appear
ance of the personal Christ among
us, and they are wondering what
they shall do to welcome him.
Would that the eyes of these
brethren, and our own, too, were
opened to the perception of the
Christ that is already here, in
the persons of those needing to be
helped and educated and elevat
ed, and that their ears could hear
his words, “Inasmuch as ye have
done it unto one of the least of
these my brethren, ye have done it
unto me.”
That is the Christian philoso
phy of giving, and if a man does
not feel the force of these consid
erations I should be disposed to
say he has not yet begun to be
a Christian.—American Tract So
ciety.
“The Stone Which the Builders Re
jected.”
A great cathedral was being
built.
The most beautiful marble, ex
quisitely carved, made its walls.
Its woodwork was like satin, and
of delicate colors. The windows
were like rich paintings, telling
the wonderful stories of Christ’s
life.
The workmen had come from
far and near; the most skilful
only having been chosen.
For months hammers and chis
els rang; at last all but one win
dow was finished. It was a south
window, not large, where rich
sunlight fell early and late.
“Strange it should have been
forgotten,” said the master work
man. “The bishop comes to-mor
row, and all should be finished.”
A little, bent man, with a
shrewd, but kindly face, limped
up. Doffing his cap, he said:
“Sir, I have made a window
for that space from bits of the
other windows. Pray you, Let it
go up.”
“It is the best we can do,” said
the master. “Put it up for to
morrow, man, but after that it
must come down.”
The next day that church was
crowded.
Just as the old bishop turned
to preach the sermon, the sun
burst out. It came through the
south window, touching his white
hair with a halo.
Every one turned to look. The
stranger’s window was a flashing
jewel. Though it was made of
bits, the colors were so blended
that it seemed like one. The sun
light glittered and broke into a
thousand rays.
The bishop knew about the for
gotten window, and the strange
way one had been made. He had
written a stately sermon, but he
THE CHRISTIAN INDEX: THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22,1896.
put it away, and preached the
thought the beautiful window
gave: “The rejected stone being
the head of the corner.”
People who heard it, and saw
the window, never forgot. So
Khali we feel, little and big, when
we see that some of our little ef
forts which in my thought worth
less, shall be counted by Jesus
worthy of all recognition.
Paradoxes of Life.
The hand that beckons ns to
glory waves us out of impenetra
ble darkness. We walk in away
that we know not. We labor for
our Master, but never know be
forehand which shall prosper,
whether this or that. We lay wise
plans, and they miscarry. We
commit gross blunders, and they
are overruled for good. We run
toward the light, and it goes out
in darkness. We sink shivering
in the darkness, and find the
light. We pray for joys, and they
mellow into griefs. We accept
the griefs, and they blossom into
joys. To-day the apple turns to
ashes, and tomorrow the stones
to bread. We exult in some pros
perity, and get leanness with it.
We murmur at some adversity,
and find it big with blessing. We
run toward open door, and dasli
our heads against a granite wall.
We move against the wall at the
call of duty, and it opens to let us
through. The lines of our lives
are all in God’s hands. What
shall befall us we cannot tell.
What is expedient we cannot
know. Only this we know, that
God would shape us to himself,
whether it be by the discipline of
joy or the discipline of sorrow.
To make ns perfect as he is per
fect, this is the end of all his rev
elations; while everything not
helpful to this he hides away out
of sight.—Heavenly Recruit Mes
senger.
The Things that Are Lovely.
Some very earnest young Chris
tians make a mistake in putting
too light a value upon those
graces of manner and little cour
tesies of speech and conduct
which might commend their ex
cellent qualities to others, and
give them the vantage ground of
personal influence. If a merchant
lias diamonds to sell he does not
shut them up in a drawer nor dis
play them in a rough box. He
does not say, “Nothing can add to
the value of a diamond, and I will
not condescend to any tricks to
catch admiration or draw custom
ers. If a man really wishes to
buy he will come to me.”
What he does is to put his jew
els upon beds of satin, in cases of
velvet; to use every art to display
their beauty. He knows very well
that people who have never
thought seriously of buying may
be attracted by the beauty that
catches the eye and arrests the
attention.
Your Christian principles ought
to be rendered so attractive by
your personality that those who
know you will associate goodness
with graciousness.-s'-Emily Hunt
ington Miller.
The Beautiful Pearl.
The pearl is the one gem that
comes to us perfect from the hand
of nature, says The Popular
Science Monthly, and to this its
great antiquity as a gem is large
ly due. Precious stones, whose
beauty and brilliance depend on
polishing and cutting, would nat
urally be discovered and utilized
later. The discovery of the dia
mond, for instance, probably
dates within historic times.
Though known earlier, it was not
generally included among the
gem treasures of royalty even as
late as the seventh century. The
modern cutting of diamonds in
regular facets was invented as
recently as 1456. Indeed, it is
quite probable that the pearl was
the first gem known and treasured
by prehistoric man—since the
search for food must have been
the first occupation of the earliest
of the race, and the shining pearl
would thus have been discovered
in river mussels, if not in marine
oysters. Certain is it that the Old
Testament and the ancient writ
ten histories allude to pearls, and
that remoter evidence is found in
the tombs and excavated cities of
still earlier eras. The Egyptians,
Babylonians and Assyrians held
the pearl in an esteem verging on
reverence.
A veteran who was charged by
the Duke of Wellington to take
a difficult position, quickly re
plied: “I will go, sir, but first
give me a grip of your conquering
hand.” That gave him courage
and strength, and he did his duty
nobly. We have a mightier and
more victorious captain, Jesus
Christ. He calls us to occupy
many a trying place in his ranks,
and we sometimes find it hard
work to respond promptly to his
demands,yet we ought ever to be
ready to say: “Master, I will do
what thou desirest, but let me
first grasp thy all-conquering
hand.” This is our high privilege
and the secret of our success.
I Grasping the hand of omnipo-
tence and love by faith, we are
equal to every danger and duty.
It is well known that at certain
central agencies a record is kept
of the name, position and stand
ing of nearly every business man
in the country. Careful men are
employed to collect this informa
tion; and it not only includes the
amount of property which the
parties are worth, but also their
standing as regards punctuality,
promptness, integrity, temper
ance, morals, etc. A number of
years ago, it is stated, a firm of
four men in Boston were rated
as “AL” They were rich, pros
perous, young, and prompt. One
of them had the curiosity to see
how they were rated, and found
these facts on the book and was
satisfied; but at the end it was
written, “but they all drink.” He
thought it was a good joke at the
time; but a few years later two
of them were dead, another was
a drunkard, and the fourth was
poor and living partly on charity.
That one little note at the end
of their rating was the most im
portant and significant of all the
facts collected and embodied in
their rating.—Christian.
The Grumble Box
By Lillie B. Day.
“Here, Nell, put in your cent; that
was a big one!”
“I only said the potatoes are stone
cold, and it’s the honest truth—they
are. If that’s grumbling, I’d like to
know. Is that a grumble, mother?”
“I rather think It is, Helen,” an
swered Mrs. Porter. "Some one had
better read our contract again. We
haven’t heard it for nearly two days.
You read it, Harry.”
Harry took a box from the middle
of the table, and read aloud:
“Each and every member of this
family of Porter agrees to pay 1 cent
into this box for each and every grum
ble or complaint he or she may make
about any article of food on this ta
ble. Signed, Edward Porter, Mary
Porter, Harry Porter, Helen Porter,
Elizabeth Porter.”
“If that isn’t the strangest agree
ment I ever heard read!” exclaimed
Aunt Margaret, who had come in un
expectedly for lunch. “How did it
ever come about?”
“Oh! we’ve had it for a month or
more, now, and the box is nearly full,”
said Helen. “For the first day or
two, cents just poured in, but now
father can eat salt butter and drink
weak coffee without a word. He’s al
most heroic. Mother always was a
martyr; nothing but tougli beefsteak
ever made her complain, and she
would swallow shoe-leather now and
smile. I suppose Harry and Bess and
I are to fill the box —we’re no saints
yet.”
“But,” said Aunt Margaret, “you
haven’t told me why you begun to have
a grumble-box.”
“I’ll tell you,” said Mrs. Porter.
“Don’t you remember some of the
times you have been here to lunch or
to dinner when everything was wrong
on the table? The soup was either too
hot or too cold, the beef was overdone,
the vegetables either too salt or not
salt enough, the bread was dry, or the
toast was burnt; sometimes we didn’t
even have the right kind of dessert.
If there was pie, every one longed for
custard or cream.”
Aunt Margaret smiled:
“I’ve known such things to happen
in other people’s houses, too.”
“So have I,” said Mrs. Porter; “but
don’t you remember, too, the little
blessing father so often asks before
meals, ‘0 Lord, for the food that thou
hast given us, give us grateful hearts’?
We would bow our heads and listen,
and then grumble over every mouth
ful.”
“You didn’t, mother; you never did.
It was the rest of us.”
“Well,” continued Mrs. Porter, “one
beautiful Sunday morning we ail went
to church, and heard an unusually
good sermon. Then we came home,
and sat down to a very good dinner,
but it was worse than ever, and before
we left the table father stopped us,
and said, ‘l’ve been thinking, children,
it would be just as well not to ask a
blessing on the food any longer. We
have such poor things to eat we cannot
feel grateful.’ ”
“I tell you, that took the breath out
of us!” said Harry.
“Yes, but it opened our eyes,” said
Helen. “We couldn’t believe that we
found so much fault with everything.”
“It was father who thought of the
box,” said Harry. “He said it would
help us keep a good resolution if we
had to pay for breaking it.”
“I’ve got some pennies in, too,” said
little Bess, “’cause I cried for more
sugar on my oatmeal.”
“And what are you going to do with
the money when the box is filled?”
asaed Aunt Margaret.
“We don’t know yet what kind of
heathen are to have it,” answered
Harry—“ Chinese, Siamese, Japanese,
Indian, or plain American; it will go
from the heathen to the heathen.”
Aunt Margaret rose to take her de
parture.
“Must you go, Margaret?” asked Mrs.
Porter. “I am so glad you came in for
lunch. I am only sorry we did not
have a better meal to offer you.”
“A cent, mother! A cent from you! ”
exclaimed the children. “That is a
genuine out-and-out grumble.”
And Mrs. Porter laughingly slipped
a coin into the grumble-box.—Sunday-
School Times.
ARE 10U LOW-SPIRITED ?
Take Horsford’s Acid Phosphate.
Worry Is worse than work—makes a man
sick quicker. Worry comes largely from
nervousness. Horsford’s Acid Phosphate
clears the brain and strengthens the nerves.
A Chance to Make Money.
I have berries, grapes and peaches, a
year old, fresh as when picked. I use
the California Cold process, do not heat
or seal the fruit, just put it up cold,
keeps perfectly fresh, and costs almost
nothing; can put up a bushel in ten
minutes. Last week I sold directions
to over 120 families; anyone will pay a
dollar for directions, when they see the
beautiful samples of fruit. As there
are many poor people like myself, I con
sider it my duty to give my experience
to such, and feel confident any one can
make one or two hundred dollars around
home in a few days. I will mail sample
of fruit and complete directions, to any
of your readers, for eighteen two-cent
stamps, which is only the actual cost of
the samples, postage, eto-, to me.
FRANCIS CASEY,
St Louis Mo.
©hildren’e ©orner*
A GAME OF TAG.
A grasshopper once had a game of tag
With some crickets that lived near by.
When he stubbed his toe and over he went
In the twinkling of an eye.
Then the crickets leaned up against a fence
And laughed till their sides were sore.
But the grasshopper said, “You are laughing
at me,
And I shan’t play any more,"
So off he went, tho’ he wanted to stay,
For he was not hurt by the fall.
And the gay little crickets went on with the
game,
And never missed him at all.
A bright-eyed squirrel called out as he
passes.
Swinging from a tree by his toes.
What a foolish fellow that gi nsshopper is;
Why, he’s bit off his own little nose."
New Orleans Picayune.
We liiid so ninny letters for the
Corner this week that we won
dered whether they could all be
put in. Just as we were question
ing about it in our mind, the fore
man, who makes up the paper,
came in, and we mentioned the
matter. “Yes,” he said, “but 1
like to read them.” So we con
cluded that if little folks and big
folks all like to read them, they
should go in.
And now we want to suggest to
some of our little friends who
have written about their churches
and Sunday-schools and feel that
they have run out of something
to say, to go to work and study
up something, ami write as if
they were writing to some little
“sure enough'' cousins.
Emoiy, Ga., Oct 5, 1896.
Dear Index:—This Corner lias be
come so interesting that I cannot re
sist the temptation of writing again.
There were so many nice letters this
week that it would cheer any one that
was lonely.
We had a glorious meeting at Con
cord church this summer. Eleven
joined—nine by experience and two by
letter.
We called our preacher for next year
at the last meeting. We selected
brother Morgan and perhaps he will
serve. We think him one of the no
blest men in Georgia. There is no one
that would suit us better than he does.
He preached some of the best sermons
this summer I ever heard. I wish all
of the children of The Index could
have heard him.
Papa takes The Index and has been
taking it for about twenty years. We
feel as if we could not do without it.
It is such a grand old paper that I
hope before long it will be in every
heme in the country.
I have never met Mr. Edens (or “Un
cle Jimmie”), but hope to some time.
I was glad to see a letter from far
off China, and hope Ruth will write
again and tell us about the people that
live around her.
How many of the children like sing
ing? I think it one of the greatest
ways of praising God. I wish “Ear
nest Willie” would write to The Index
again. He wrote such interesting let
ters a few years back that I think the
young folks, as well as the old, would
er.joy them.
I will close by asking a few ques
tions: What king had an iron bed
stead? Who was the first Christian
converted in Europe? Why do Chris
tians believe the Bible to be the Word
of God? Yours truly,
MAUD BEALL.
Winterville, Ga., Oct. 10, 1896.
Dear Index: —I have been reading
some nice little letters in the Chil
dren’s Corner, and I thought I would
write one. I do hope it will not be
put in the waste basket, but I am a
little afraid of it, as this is the first
letter I have ever written to be pub
lished. I am eleven years old. I live
in the country. I am not going to
school now. My mamma teaches
me at home. I have two brothers.
One is nineteen, the other fifteen years
old. I have no sister. Mamma’s aunt
Alice, Mrs. G. R. McCall, from Macon,
has been visiting us. She is so sweet
and good! We love her very much. I
go to Sunday-school. I haven’t missed
but once this year. My father is su
perintendent. Our pastor, brother W.
M. Uoile, preached to the children at
the close of the quarter about David.
We had a glorious meeting in August.
There were thirteen added by bap
tism; eight by letter and restoration.
I will close, with best wishes for the
dear old Index.
Your friend,
JASPER HAYNES.
Elberton, Ga., Oct. 11, 1896.
Dear Index:—l was glad to see my
little letter in the Corner, and will
now try to write again. Several of the
family have gone to church. I hated
to miss going, for I know they will
hear an excellent sermon as usual.
Our Sunday-school is dull ndw, but I
hope our superintendent will soon be
well and that our school will soon be
in a thriving condition again. My
Sunday-school teacher has offered a
prize, but I am not expecting to get it,
for I could not attend regularly on ac
count of sickness in the family. Some
of the children speak of the books they
have read. I have not read many, but
have been reading in the “King of
Glory.” I have been hoping to see a
letter from my little friend, Olive
Cheney. I hope we children will have
success with our Corner.
Your little friend,
ICIE L. BROWN.
Tunnel Hill, Ga., Oct. 10, 1896.
Dear Index: —This is my first time
to write to any paper. Papa takes
The Index. I love to read the Chil
dren’s Corner and the Home Depart
ment. I have read the Bible through.
What parable did Nathan speak to
David? Miss Ella Morris wants to
know how many times the word rev
erend” is mentioned in the Bible. It
is used one time: Ps. 111:9. lam a
little boy eight years old. I hope that
this letter will find the safe basket.
I am your friend,
POWELL HEAD.
Cadley, Ga., Oct. 12, 1896.
Dear Index: —As you are so kind as
to give us a Corner, I thought I would
stop a moment from my work and
write another short letter. I am a
little boy eleven years of age. I enjoy
reading the Children’s Corner. I also
enjoy reading the nice little letters for
the Children’s Corner. We had a good
protracted meeting in August. Six
joined by experience and four by let
ter. We have about ninety members
in- our church. Our church is about
fifty years old.
Your little friend,
CLAUDIUS L. McGINTY.
Dwight, Ga., Oct. 7, 1896.
Dear Index:—l have been watching
and reading the Corner for the chil
dren ever since its incorporation in
your valuable paper, The Christian In
dex. The very name is a suggestive
one. The Christian’s face ought to be
an index to the heart that is within.
My papa has just returned from the
Washington association. He was very
much pleased; says it was a very pleas
ant and profitable session. The next
session will be held with our church,
Pleasant Grove. I shall look forward
to it with pleasure and fond anticipa
tions. Let us all pray that there may
be greater advancements for the Mas
ter’s kingdom.
I am a country girl, but have been
taught, as I trust, the way and plan of
salvation. Our church is a new one.
New building and newly constituted,
it being not five years old.
Our pastor is L. A. Brantley. Oh!
how some of us love him, but not all.
I think I love him because he has on
him the image of the Master and
faithfully declares the truth as it is in
Jesus. Ou. how sad that some Bap
tists can’t stand the pure, unadulter
ated Word. Our Sunday-school is not
at all flourishing. I trust we are
about through the dark, gloomy win
ter and the light of prosperity, love
and happiness is just ready to burst in
upon us.
The Index has a place in our hearts
and home. Don’t know that I can
say anything more fitting than to pray
the blessing of God on the paper and
its noble editors. If you deem this
worthy of a place in the Corner give
it; if not, throw it by. Let me urge
all of the cousins to read all of the
dear old Index, for it is a teacher of
truth and righteousness.
WILLIE.
Bethesda. Ga.. Oct. 8, 1896.
Dear Index:—Since I have seen no
one writing from our church. “Old
Bethesda,” I thought I would write and
tell you about our Sunday-school and
church.
We have Sunday-school every Sun
day afternoon at 3 o’clock. Mr. D. N.
Asbury is our superintendent. Our
school is not very large in number,
but I think it is earnest in its work
and quite interesting. Miss Ternpy
Daniel is our organist. Missionary
day was observed in our school last
fourth Sunday. We had songs, reci
tations and prayers. They were all
very nice. The collection was ten dol
lars and a half. Rev. John S. Callaway
is our pastor and has been for
twenty years. All love him dearly.
'Ye had a good meeting, beginning
on Friday before the third Sunday in
August, and closing the next Thurs
day. Ten united with the church by
experience and were baptized—three
girls and seven young men. All were
members of onr Sunday-school. Oh!
that many more of our boys and girls
will come out on the Lord’s side and
make an open profession of their
faith! Your young friend,
BLUE BIRD.
Near Dawson, Ga., Oct. 5, 1896.
Dear Index: —I am a little girl twelve
y ears old, and as I haven’t noticed the
name of any little boys and girls in
our community, I thought I would
write.
We have a nice church six miles from
Dawson, “New Bethel.” Our pastor is
Rev. R. B. Taylor. He is an earnest
worker, an able and talented minister
and very much loved by his people.
We have an interesting Sabbath-school.
Mr. S. D. Hatcher is our faithful su
perintendent. Miss Ola Chambless is
our organist and we enjoy the sweet
songs she teaches us to sing. My
Sunday-school teacher’s name is Mr.
J. D. Chambless. He is an earnest
worker. Your little friend,
LIZZIE N. SENN.
Johnston Station, Ga., Oct. 6, 1896.
Dear Index: —I have read many nice
letters in the Children’s Corner, and
will write a few lines. I like to read
the letters very much. My papa has
been a subscriber to The Index over
twelve years. I am a little girl ten
years old. Mr. Richardson is our pas
tor and we like him very much. My
grandpapa is our Sunday-school super
intendent. We had a protracted meet
ing week before last. We will have a
Sunday-school association at our
church next Saturday. As this is my
first letter to any paper, I will close.
If I see this in print, will try to write
again. Your friend.
KATIE RAIFORD.
Tropic, Ga., Oct. 7, 1896.
Dear Index:—l have been thinking
for a long time of writing to the Chil
dren’s Corner. There is nothing I en
joy more than reading the Corner. I
Jive in the country, about one mile
from Hebron church. It is a new
church. We have services once a
month; Sunday-school every Sunday
afternoon. Brother Dolly Hawks is
our pastor. We like him very much.
I am not a member of the church, but
expect to be some time. I will close
by askjng a question: What relation
was David to Ruth? This is my first
attempt to write, and for fear of the
waste basket will only write a short
letter
WINNIE B. JOSSEY.
Shelby, N. C., Oct. 12, 1896.
Dear Index:—l wish to join the little
folks and write you a letter. I am
nine years old. I go to Sabbath-school.
Mr. Yates Webb is our superintendent
and Miss Annie Hufham is my teacher.
She has a large class of boys. We
like her very much. My grandma
takes The Index. I love to read the
letters in the Children’s Corner. I
like to go to the graded school. With
best wishes for The Index,
BUSSEY LATTIMORE.
Griffin, Ga., Oct. 9, 1896.
Dear Index: —As this is my first at
tempt in writing to any paper, I will
write only a few lines. My father
takes The Index and I enjoy reading
it. I go to Sunday-school every Sun
day. Our pastor is Mr. W. L. Ken
drick, and papa is superintendent. I
have six brothers, but I have no sis
ter. My sweet little baby brother is
dead. If I see this in print I may
write again. I will close with best
wishes to The Index.
Your friend,
CLARA GREER.
Augusta, Ga., Oct. 10, 1896.
Dear Index: —1 am a little boy of
twelve years of age. My mamma
takes The Index and she enjoys it very
much. I think it is a good paper my
self. I enjoy the Children’s Corner,
and like to read it very much. I
thought I would attempt to write you
a few lines. We have one of the best
Sunday-schools in the city of Augusta.
Our pastor is Rev. Thomas Walker,
end one of the best in Georgia. He is
very much loved by all of his mem
bers. Our superintendent is Mr. Joe
Belding, who is liked by all of the
children. His wife is my Sunday-
school teacher. I love her very mucu.
She has a large class of little boys.
They always know their lessons. I
have been a member of the Second
Baptist church and Sunday-school for
two years. This being my first at
tempt, I will close, hoping you will
put this in. Much love to The Index.
Yours truly,
ALBERT AUTREY.
Quitman, Ga., Oct. 9, 1896.
Dear Index:—Here come two timid
little sisters knocking for admission
into the happy band of cousins. As
tins is our first letter, we hope to see
it in print. Our parents live with our
grandparents. Grandpa takes The In
dex and has taken it for a number of
years. He took it when our mamma
was a girl. We do love the Children’s
Corner. I am nine years old and sis
ter will be seven on the 12th. We
have a sweet little blue-eyed brother
not quite two years old, named Spur
geon, for the great preacher. Mamma
hopes brother will be a soul-winner
when he grows up. Mr. Cooper is our
preacher and we all love him so dearly.
We think he is the best preacher
in the State. Our Sunday-school
teacher is Miss Nonnie McCall.
We love her, too. Miss Ela Till
man is our organist, and oh! she
does play so beautifully. We
enjoy so much hearing the cousins tell
of the Sunbeam Societies. We love
to sing and can sing several hymns
bj ourselves. Little brother can sing,
too. We want the Christian cousins
to pray that we may give our hearts
to Jesus in our young days. Ruth
Carlin, please write again. We would
like to see you, for our mamma knows
your mamma and papa.
Your little friends,
FRANKIE AND MAUDE ELDER.
Cross Keys, Ga., Oct. 8, 1896.
Dear Index: —Would a few words
from me be acceptable in the Chil
dren’s Corner?
I think it is so nice for them to
have a place in your excellent paper,
and each one try to write interesting
letters. I enjoy reading The Index
very much. It is always a welcome
visitor in our home. We live within
three miles of Providence, our home
church. We do not attend our Sunday
school as regularly as we would like
to. We have preaching every first
Sunday and Saturday before. Rev. T.
T. Twitty is our pastor. Mr. J. T.
Langly is Sunday-school superintend
ent. Miss Maggie Wilson is my
teacher now and has been about three
years, and we are well pleased with
her. I am thirteen years old and live
in the country, about twelve miles
from Atlanta. I will close, as I am
afraid of the waste basket. If I see
this in print I will write again.
Yours truly,
LELIA MAY BURDETT.
Fort Valley, Ga., Oct. 4, 1896.
Dear Index:—l have just finished
reading the Children’s Corner. I like
it so well that I thought I would try
to write, too. I’m not a member of the
church, but I hope to be. Papa is a
minister. I like to go to Sunday
school. We have a Sunbeam Society
here. We have a very good society.
They all seem to enjoy meeting. This
is my first letter to the Children’s
Corner. I’m only ten years old I
will try to do better next time.
LONY NORTON.
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