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LITTLE THINGS.
A good-by kiss Is a little thing,
W Ith your hand on the door to go,
But It takes the venom out of the sting
Os a thoughtless word or a cruel fling
That you made an hour ago.
A kiss of greeting Is sweet and rare
After the toll < f the day,
And It smooths the furrows plowed by care.
The lines on the forehead you once eabed
fair
In the years that have flown by.
'Tls a little thing to say, “ You are kind;
I love you, my dear," each night;
But It sends a thrill through the heart, I
And—
For love Is tender, as love Is blind—
_ As we climb life's rugged height.
We starve each other for love's caress;
We take, but we do not give:
ft seems so easy some soul to bless,
But we dole the love grudgingly, less aud
less,
Till 'tls bitter and hard to live.
—Selected.
A Doll that Served the Government.
Some Apache Indians had left
the Reserve, and one of our gen
erals had had a good deal of
trouble in try mg to get them back.
One day a little papoose, that is,
a little Indian girl, three years
old, strayed away from her fath
er's wigwam. One of the sol
diers found her, and took her to
the fort. All day she was very
quiet, but when night came she
sobbed and cried, just as any lit
tie white child would, fcr her
mother and her home. The sol
diers did not know what to do
with her; they could not quiet
her. At last the commander in
charge remembered that a beau
tiful doll had been sent from the
Erst to the daughter of one of
the officers. He went to this of
ficer’s bouse and asked to borrow
the doll for the little Indian girl
in the fort.
The doll was beautiful herself
ard was beautifully dressed.
The little girl leaned it to the of
ficer, and it was carried to the
fort to the little Indian baby. It
was placed in her arms, and she
was made to unders and that she
could take it to bed with her.
Immediately she stopped crying
and fell asleep with the beautiful
doll closely held in her arms.
When morning came she was
radiantly happy the moment she*
opened her eyes and saw her
beautiful little companion. She
petted it, she rocked it, she talked
to it, just as any little white child
would. But now there came a
new difficuhy. The soldiers hop
ed, if they kept the little girl,
that her parents would come or
send after her, and they could
enter into some negotiations with
them to get them back on the
Reserve. But the father and
mother of the little Indian girl
did not appear. It was a v< ry
serious thinu for a lot of soldiers
to l ave charge of a little three
and-a half year old girl, and they
were very greatly puzzled.
Several days passed, and at
last the soldiers decided that the
little papoose must be taken back
to her family, as they would not
come for her. With her doll in
her arms, she started with
her protectors for the wigwam.
W hen she reached the tribe with
her doll, she created the great
estexcitement. The soldiers left
the child with her mother and
returned to the fort The next
day the little papoose’s mother
appeared at the fort with the
doll, to return it. She was re
ceived with the greatest courtesy
by the soldiers; treated with
great consideration; and made to
understand that her little daught
er was to keep the doll. The re
suit was that the soldiers’ kind
ness to the little girl, and their
courts sy to her mother, created
a revulsion of feeling among the
wandering Indians, and led to
negotiations which resulted in
the Indians going back to the
Reserve —that is, the land set
apart for them by the United
States Government —without any
trouble. — Exchange.
Careless Children.
An evil to be guarded against
in childhood is carelessness.
One who has had much to do
with the training of young child
ren, writes on this subject as fol
lows: It is interesting to go into
some room filled with boys and
girls, and notice the heels of
their boots and shoes. Many of
them will be found to be brown
and rusty. It is only a careful
boy who blacks the heels of his
boots. I know a good many per
sons who think if they can face
the world well, appear honest,
kind and good, they are doing
all that is required. Back out
of sight, as they suppose, in the
home perhaps, maybe in school
or in business, are the little, rude
or careless acts that “nobody”
sees. Is there nobody to see?
What do you suppose the Lord
thinks of those unshined moral
“heels?” Do they suppose they
can go along and never turn
around? Do they suppose no
one is ever to come after? Just
because they are smart enough
to see only part, do they suppose
no one else will see the whole?
A little girl was sent to put her
bureau drawer in order. She
smoothed over the pile of arti
cles, and then carefully spread
her nubia over the top. A boy
was sent to put the back garden
in order. How well it looked
from the window when he had
finished! Did he think any one
would look into the corner be
hind the woodshed? Alas! for
THE CHRISTIAN INDEX: THURSDAY. NOVEMBER 12,1896.
the “heels” of the bureau drawer
and garden! Only the parts well
done—carefully, conscientiously,
honestly done—will ever stand
for our credit.
The Bee.
The following calculations
have been made in regard to the
work done by the honey bee:
When the weather is fine, a work
er can visit from forty to eighty
flowers in six or ten trips and
collect a grain of nectar. If it
visits two hundred or four hun
dred Howers, it will gather five
grains. Under favorable circum
stances it will take a fortnight to
obtain fifteen grains It would,
therefore, take it several years
to manufacture a pound of hon
ey, which will fill about three
thousand cells. A hive contains
from twenty thousand to fifty
thousand bees, half of which pre
pare the honey, and the other
half attend to the wants of the
hive and the family. On a fine
day sixteen thousand to twenty
thousands individuals will, in six
or ten trips, be able to explore
from thirty thousand to one mil
lion Howers, say several hun
dred thousand plants. Again,
the locality must be favorable
for the preparation of the honey,
and the plants that produce the
most nectar must flourish near
the hive. A hive inhabited by
thirty thousand bees may, there
fore, under favorable conditions,
receive about two pounds of hon
ey per day.— Young Disciple
A pastor sometimes finds it to
be no easy matter to induce the
members of his church to call on
the newcomers. Even after they
have joined the church, they are
often not shown that degree of
personal and social attention
which is needful in order to make
them feel at home. And it some
times happens that when such a
call is made, it is so perfunctori
]y peiformi das to rob it of its
value. An earnest pastor thus
describe an incident which came
within his knowledge: “We re
cently heard of a lady, a member
of one of the churches of 1 his city,
who called on another who had
been attending her church as a
stranger. She announced byway
of apology for calling, that her
pas’or had urged her to do so,
and then told how little she en
joyed calling, bow busy she was,
how much work she had done
that day, how r tired she was, end
ing with a sigh and that she
‘must be going.’ As she went
toward the door she said: ‘Now
I’ve callei&on you, you must come
to our church ard come to see
me some time.’ Better for all
had that woman stayed al
home.”— The Mid- Continent.
Some people who stand well,
and whose reputation for up
rightness is worth more to them
than any earthly possession,
seem to have no conscience about
some things. They would not
think of leaving any store ac
count unpaid, and would spurn
the thought of getting the ser
vices of any one without compen
sation; but they will turn the
steward down when he comes to
collect for the pastor, and, with
out blush or shame, pay so much
o! a church assessment, and flat
ly refuse to pay the balance.
Sometimes the same class of peo
ple will let their church paper
run twelve months, or more,
over the time, and then coolly
tell the collector that they never
ordered it, and do not mean to
pay for it.- — North Carolina Advo
cate.
It was said of a handsome but
brainless young “society” man
that he made a very good chry
santhemum holder.
A Garden of Nightingales.
BY REV. PHILIP WENDELL GRANNELL.
A recent paper furnishes this inci
dent : A gentleman of France, who
had been delighted with the rapturous
warblings of the nightingales in the
forests of the Sierra Modena, desired to
hear within his own boundaries the
same delightful music. No nightingale
had ever been seen or heard there, but
he set himself to work to woo them.
He determined to create an artificial
Sierra Modena. Nature seems to have
out innumerable spies in search of spots
that furnish favorable conditions for
her children—for the army worm and
the potato beetle, alas for us! as well
as the nightingale—and on the discov
ery of such a spot communicates the
news to them by some mysterious tele
pathy that calls them from the earth’s
four corners.
It was this gentleman’s plan to fur
nish those conditions; he trusted nature
to do the rest. Accordingly he banished
cats, for the nightingale nests low,
sings low and is an easy prey. He
caused many places in the woods to be
scratched up and earthworms planted
there. He scattered meal worms liberally
in accessible spots. Other methods rec
ommended by the books he put faith
fully into practice. One year passed
by, and not one liquid note from Philo
mel fell upon his ear. Another, and
still the invited guests remained aloof.
But when the third spring came, one
night his heart thrilled as he heard the
voices of a single pair. Before many
springs his woods were vocal with the
melody and the estate became known as
“The Garden of Nightingales.”
What birds shall sing, oh my soul, in
the garden of my life ? The world’s
wide aviary holds many and variant
sorts. Common fowls, whose cluck or
chirp speaks to the lower man, heedful
but of the earth, crows of raucous voice
and carrion appetite, screech owls
whose rasping note sets every fiber quiv
ering, thrushes exuberant with cheer
and life, as the poet says,
That’s the wise thrush !
He sings each song twice over
Lest you should think he never could
recapture
That first fine careless rapture I—
nightingales, the bird of tenderness and
love, whose songs can melt the heart
into a pleasant pensiveness that
Resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain—
larks, the bird of aspiration, as in Shel
ley’s verse :
Higher still and higher,
From the earth thou springest
Like a cloud of fire;
The blue deep thou wingest,
Aud singing still dost sour, and soar
ing, ever singest l—
and thoughts for which no bird can be
fit symbol unless it be the dove—
And I have seen thoughts in the valley—
Ah me, how my spirit was stirred !
And they wear holy veils on their faces;
Their footsteps can hardly be heard,
And they pass through the valley like
virgins
Too pure for the touch of the Word !
Any of these I may have for the asking
crows or nightingales, sparrows or larks
or the Holy Dove. They await my in
vitation. They will come to me it I
will. 1 have but to woo them. Let me
furnish the appropriate conditions and
they shall flock from the wide heaven
into my heart's garden.
First if I desire the song birds I must
banish from heart and mind and life all
things that keep the gentle guests away.
Very timid and very fastidious these
songsters are. The nightingale has a
prejudice against the screech owl, the
vulgar, chattering English sparrow
drives away the robin and the lark and
the thrush. If I want nightingales I
must get rid of the screech owls. If I
want to hear the robin carol in the
spring, 1 must make potpie of the spar
rows. When I harbor hateful, unlov
ing. foul or sensual thoughts the others
will flee away, and by and by they will
not come. Yon wonder, my friend,
why God’s nightingales no longer make
music in your heart 1 Has God de
serted me ? Are all the song birds
dead ?” Nay, nay. There are just as
many as ever; you have frightened them
off. and while those unclean creatures
linger they will stay away.
It is said that in heaven, at twilight, a
great bell softly swings.
And man may listen and harken to the
wonderful music th it rings
If he puts from his heart's inner chain
ber all the passion, pain and strife,
Heartache, and weary longing, that
throb in the pulses of life —
If he thrust from his soul all hatred, all
thoughts of wicked things,
He can hear in the holy twilight how
the bell of the angels rings.
And I think there is in this legend, if
we open our eyes to see,
Somewhat of an inner meaning, my
friend, to you and me.
Let us look in our hearts and question:
Can pure thoughts enter in
To a soul, if it be already the dwelling
of thoughts of sin ?
So then let us ponder a little, let us
look in our hearts and see
If the twilight bells of the angels could
ring for us—you and me.
Then I must give them food. Good
reading gives them food, good company
gives them food, good acting gives them
food.
Sometimes this is the most effective
method.
It is easier to say to a bad thought,
“Depart,” than it is to get it to depart,
as it is easier to say to a good thought,
“Come,” than it is to get it to come.
But we accomplish the two things at
once when we furnish the food for the
good thought. That fW drives out the
bad We can so saturale ourselves with
good reading and good acting that the
evil thoughts cannot stay. When you
open a low or viciotfs book, you are
spreading a feast for all the vultures of
the sky and they will t ime! Where the
carcass is, there the eagles are gathered
together. If a man finds himself not
only seldom visited by the good, but
also tormented by the unclean birds of
thought and feeling, let him deliberate
ly apply himself to such books only as
will stimulate what is true and noble
and good. The night birds cannot en
dure the diet —they must go; and if he
take pains to do as many of the kind
and noble and righteous things his
books suggest as lie in his way, he will
be surprised to find how many are the
buzzards which have fled and how
many are the song birds which have
come. Year by year bis life will grow
musical with holy thought and feelinsr
Then, having driven away th' evil,
invited the good, I must cherish the
song birds which do drift down to me.
For birds of a feather flock together.
Where buzzards are there will buzzards
come. A tired horse falls dead in a
Southern city. A black spot poises in
the cloudless sky, it grows larger, wide
ly circles, drops. In ten minutes the
air is black with beating wings. In an
hour the bones are white. Buzzards!
Where did they come from ? How were
they summoned? God, who knows the
heart of the birds—God knows and he
alone But the buzzards come! The
unelean spirit, when he returns, bring
eth seven other spirits more evil than
himself. Thank God, it is so with the
good!
“Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone!”
One swallow may not bring the
spring, but one nightingale calle othet e.
One holy thought, by its own divine at
traction draws a host of like ones
Cherish that nightingale of a good and
holy and spiritual emotion, give it room
for the sole of its foot, let it nest, let it
brood, let it stay, walk with bated
breath and cautious foot lest you fright
en it away, for it is the advance guard
of a winged army that shall fill your
life with melody! But, after all is said,
the buzzards linger, and the nightin
gales come not, or come but seldom
and then stay but a little! What then?
Ah, well, it is not the nightingale or
the lark we need first to woo, it is the
Dove—the gentle, spotless, brooding
Spirit of God. Where the man consci
ously and deliberately harbors the un
clean birds of selfishness and passion
and sin, that gracious guest refuses to
come in. He will not come. He will
not stay. But when with a great long
ing, with a great willingness, with a
great surrender, the man opens his heart
to him, he comes and broods, and they
cannot stay. One by one they flee into
the shadows, one by one they creep out
of the shadows, spread their wings and
disappear. They cannot abide that
brooding purity. And then into the
hush and the quiet and the roominess,
others come stealing in; they lift up
their voices, peace and joy and love fill
their heart with their music. For this
is the nature of the Dove, that while
the evil birds cannot abide his presence,
all sweet and noble songsters come glad
ly to him and nestle under the brooding
of his wings, so that the heart, though
late a “nest of unclean birds,” into
which he comes, is transformed into a
garden of nightingales. First oh my
soul, woo the Dove, and all else shall be
added unto thee. — Examiner.
The Most Simple and Safe Rem
edy for a Cough or Throat Trouble is
“ Brown’s Bronchial Troches.” They
possess real merit.
(Children’s (Corner.
LITTLE GIRL BLUE.
Little Girl Blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep’s in the meadow, the cow's In the
corn;
The hnrvost Is grest and the laborers few,
And the grain's getting trampled, while
such as you,
As capable girls as ever grew I
Who ought to bo helping t lie ones who reap,
Are under the haystack fast asleep I
Little Girl Blue, come blow your horn,
And gather your wits In the early morn!
Since none of you goto Tlmbuetoo,
You must clear the way for those that do.
Let the world grow Letter as you pass
through,
Did the Lord of the harvest order this heap
For you to be under fait asleep?
—Mother Goose for Mission Hands.
Dear Index:—As I read the chil
dren’s letters in the Corner, I notice
frequent calls for ‘ Earnest Willie.” I
have come to tell you that I have just
written to him insisting on him writing
for the Corner. I had a visit from him
in September, and we discussed the
Children’s Corner in the Index, and
called attention to the fact that scarcely
a week passed but some letter called for
him. He certainly intended to write,
but he has been so busy that he has un
intentionally neglected it. Good, use
ful people are always busy.
When he wishes to be particularly
nice to me he calls me “ Mother.” We
shall see what influence a “mother in
Israel ” can have with him. He is too
good a boy to be scolded; a kind and
gentle remonstrance is all he ever needs
1 have only to say; “No.v, Willie,
just make one speech less for that b iok
and write to those children,” I believe
he will do it, don't you ?
We all enjoy his letters; they are so
bright, spicy, hopeful aud happy There
is a charm and attraction about him
and his writings that scatti rs suns!in»
wherever he goes. He is a live, active
Christian with a bright happy tempera
ment, and his religion shines through
aud comes to the surface where the peo
ple can see it. He has only to let his
light shine that God has put in his
hear'. We want him to bring some of
his brightness into our little cozy
Corner. He is a Georgia boy, “our own
Willie,” and we certainly have some
claim upon his time.
“ Gray haired .Mother," how can you
resist the calls for your return ? Do
come again; the Corner is always bright
ened by your nresence; you chapeion
ti e lit! le crowd of children so nicely,
for “ what is home without a mother?”
In Christian love and sympathy,
Mrs. Laura Richards.
Canton, Ga.
Elberton. —I will try and write
again. I went to church this morning,
but there was no Sunday school on ac
count of sickness and bad weather. Our
superintendent has recovered ftom
his illness, but is not able to attend
Sunday-school yet. One of our schol
ars, Miss Jannie Fortson, is quite ill
with fever. They have been looking for
her to die for several days. We do
sympathize with the family. We are
expecting to hear of the death of one of
our little cousins, who is very sick with
fever, but I trust the Lord will see fit to
let her live. -You all don’t know how
sad we feel. One member of our faintly,
our oldest brother, has moved to Frank
lin county, forty miles from us. Yon
don’t know how hard it is to give him
up. It seems like he is dead. We did
not know what it was to do without a
member of the family. I have two sis
ters married, but they both live in a
mile of us and my brother aud two
sisters lived in sight of each other until
he moved last week. Our much be
loved pastor, Mr. K. S.< Cheney. is visit
ing the sick of this community.
I will close by asking the prayers of
the cousins. Your little friend,
Icie Brown.
Pjkenix City.—Would a few words
from me be acceptable in the Children’s
Corner ? I think it is so nics for them
to have a place in your excellent paper,
and each one try to write interesting
letters- I like to go to Sunday school
very much. Our superintendent is Mr.
A. N. White. We have a flourishing
school and think it is earnest in its
work. lam a mem’ er of the First Bap
tist church. Our pastor is Rev. Arnel
Smith. We all love him very much
and think him one of the noblest men
in Alabama; there is no one that would
suit us any better than he does. He
preached some of the best sermons this
summer I ever heard. 1 wish all of
the towns in the Index could have
heard him. Mamma takes the Index.
We all love the dear old paper; it is a
welcome visitor in our home. I wish
Earnest Willie would write to the in
dex again. He wrote such interesting
letters a few years back. I will close by
asking a qnes ion: How many times is
the word girl mentioned in the Bible ?
Love to the Ini ex. Pat.
Near Dawson.—l have been think
ing for a long time of writing to the
Children’s Corner. There is nothing I
enjoy more than reading the Corner.
We have services once a month; Sun
day-school every Sunday afternoon
Our pastor is Rev. R. B. Taylor. Oh !
how some of us love him, but not all 1
think I love him because he has on the
image of the Master and faithfully de
clares the truth as it is in Jesus. I have
been a member of the church three
years. Let me urge all of the cousins
to read all of the dear old Index, for it
is a teacher of truth and righteousness.
If I see this in print, I will write again.
Your little friend,
Ethel L. Senn.
Hatchers —Ab I have seen no one
writing from our church (Enon) I
thought I would write a letter. We
have a beautiful church situated in a
lovely oak grove. Our pastor’s name is
Mr. W. K. Norton. We all think him
such a good man and know of but one
whom I love better, and that is our
well known and much beloved old
brother. T. H. Stout, for whom I was
named. Do any of the cousins know
him ? Our Sunday-school is rather dull
now, but we hope it will grow better. I
love to go to Sunday school so much.
As this is my first letter I had better
quit. Your little friend.
Henry Stout Roberts.
Pleasant Hill.—l am a little girl
eleven years old and so enjoy reading
the Children’s Corner that I thought I
would write.
cMy aunt Jtakes the Index and I read
it. I am staying with my grandma.
My grandma is sixty-four years old and
my grandpa is seventy-one years old.
My mother died when I was only six
years old.
I will write again and tell you all
about our Sunday-school next time if
I see this published. With best wishes
for the Index, I am
Your little friend,
Cora E. Weaver.
Flint. —This is my first attempt to
write for the Index. Igo to Sunday
school. Our superintendent is Mr. R.
T. Cochran, and our pastor is Mr. B.
W. Davis. We love him very much.
My mother died January 5.
Your friend,
I. F Tinsley.
Milledgeville.—Here I come again.
This time I come seeking pardon for
leaving out the last page of my first let
ter Xo the Corner. I assure you that I
knew nothing of it until after the letter
was mailed. 1 was truly sorry.
As the editor said in one of the last
issues, we are about talked out when we
finish with the churches and Sunday
schools. However, I hope that we
cousins will not allow the conversation
to give out and so let the Corner run
down, but try to study up something
about which we can talk, and make
such a noise as will cause the old folks
to stop and listen. Heretofore, the let
ters have been very interesting, and the
reading of them has proved a great
source of enjoyment. It seems sei
fish that 1 have stood idly by and lis
tened to and enjoyed the chat of others
and have taken no part or tried to help,
but really I am kept very busy indeed,
as 1 am in school, and those of the cous
ins who are school girls or boys can
sympathize with me. This seems to be
a busy age anyway. Everybody is in a
hurry.
Oh! Earnest Willie, are you never
going to write to us again? Or have
yon forgotten us? A letter from you
would be very acceptable in the Corner.
"Gray haired Mother,” write to us
often and give ns some more good ad
vice. for we certainly need it.
Since the school began, we have had
a full attendance at both Sunday school
and church. The church has been
greatly revived of late. Many have
confessed Christ as their personal Savior
and still more have asked for prayer.
Two have been baptized lately; one a
Methodist preacher, the other an Indus
trial girl. Rev. John A. Wray is as
faitnful as ever and is still doing good
work fcr the Master's cause.
I shall close now, because I have made
my letter too long. But, in the next
letter, I shall tell you about our colleges
and my Sunday-school class.
I fear that 1 have plied my tongue too
fast and have done more chatting than
was my share Please pat don me if it
has been so.
With btst wishes for the dear old In
dex ami love to the cousins, I am
Yours truly.
Mildred Shivers.
Leverett. —My papa takes the In
dex and we prize it very highly. I like
the Children’s Corner because of the
sweet little letteis found there every
week. If you will allow a little space,
I will write, too. My papa says he will
help me. He is a Baptist preacher and
serves two churches (Wells Creek and
Damascus). lam a little girl just eight
years old and can read right well, but
can’t write very much. Igo to church
at Wells Creek, aud some times go with
papa to his other appointments. Some
times I go to New Hope to hear Mr.
Hogan preach. He used to be my pa
pa’s pastor for several years, and we all
love him very much.
For fear that I may write too long a
letter, and that you will send it away to
the waste basket I will stop and write
some other time.
With best wishes for the Index and
its editors, I am yours again,
Mattie Green.
P. S. My little friend Mozele Myers
is visiting me to day, and she joins me
in writing a letter for the Corner.
Good bye. Mattie.
Thomson —I have not seen any let
ters from the Thomson church, so I
thought I would write one to the “Chil
dren’s Corner.” Rev. G W. Garner
is our pastor, We like him very
much. We have a good Sunday
school. Mrs Eva Hardaway is our
teacher and we love her very much.
She has given me two books, one of
them a nice Bible I will always keep
that to remember her by.
We have a Missionary Society called
the Sunbeams Miss Annie O Neal is
the president. We will open our mite
boxes on Christmas.
I hope Ruth will write again and tell
us about China She is my little cousin,
and I would like to write to her if she
would write first I would like to tell
you about my trip to Florida last spring,
tut I guess it would make my letter too
long. lam ten years old.
Loyd P. Lazenby.
Octavia —Will you accept of a let
ter from a little girl in the country,
who has been reading the many nice
letters from the cousins for some time?
I think it so kind for you to give them
a place in your excellent paper.
My own dear papa died when I was a
baby, but I have a good, kind
Papa and mamma are Baptists. Their
membership is at New Salem church,
almost at the foot of the historic Kenne
saw mountain. Our pastor is Rev. J.
H. W. Ribertson. In a series of meet
ings this summer, there were twenty
three added to the church.
As this is my first attempt to write a
letter to a paper, I will close with kind
wishes for the editors of the dear old
Index Your friend,
• Eddie. B. Green.
Jenkinsburg.—l have been visiting
my grandmamma. She takes the In
dex and 1 was delighted to read it, es
pecially the Children's Corner. lama
little girl, a member of Philippi Bap
tist church. I joined last year during
our August annual meeting Rev. J.
A Jackson is our pastor, and has been
for ten years. He is a good man and a
good preacher, and we all love him so
much. We have chosen him for an
other year. This is the first letter I
have written to the Index. I hope to
see this in print. *
With best wishes for the Index.
Your little friend,
Willie May Strickland.
Buena Vista —Ab I see no little
cousins from Buena Vieta writing to
the Index, I thought I would write.
Brother J. D Norris has been our pas
tor for the past two years, and I think
has done great good. Mr. J. O Smith
is the superintendent of our Sunday
school. Mrs. Willie McCall is my
teacher. I think she is so nice ard sweet.
lam twelve years old. lam not a
member of the church but hope to be
some day. 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,
Louise Wynn.
Lumpkin.—l will make my first at
tempt to write to you. My papa takes the
Index, and I like to read it very much,
especially the Children’s Corner. lam
a little country girl thirteen years old.
I go to Sabbarh school every Sunday,
and I like to go very much. My teacher
is Miss Troy Holder. We all like her
very much We have preaching every
second Saturday and Sunday at our
church. County Line. Our pastor is
Rev. W. W. Arnold, and he is loved by
all. If I see this in print, I will write
again. Yours truly,
Nora Ware.
Carnot.—As I have read so many
letters in the Children’s Corner. I
thought I would write a short letter.
My own papa is dead, but I have a
step papa. I have two step sisters, one
own sister, one half sister and brother.
My little brother is sixteen months old.
He can walk and talk. Os course he is
the pet of the family as he is the only
boy.
Papa takes the dear old Index and 1
enjoy reading the Children’s Corner.
I am a little girl ten years old.
I will close with best wishes for the
Index. Lela Brown.
Valdosta.—l have been reading so
many nice letters from the little girls
in the Children’s Corner, I thought I
would try to get one in, too I know it
will not be nice like some of them, for I
expect some of the little girls have good
preachers for papas, and get so much
good help and information from them.
My papa is not a preacher, but my Aunt
Fannie is a zealous Sunday-school
teacher and worker. lam in her class
and she loves to help me. We have a
good Sunday-school at Beaverdam
church in Berrien county. We meet on
the first and third Sundays in each
month and have a good time. lam a
little girl nine years old, and have
neither mamma, brothers or sisters.
My mother died when I was nearly four
years old. She has been dead, this De
cember, six years. I have a little cousin
that I call sister and we stay together
all we can. She is Verdie Baskin. I
am going to try to get her to write one,
too. I will close for this time.
Your little friend,
Verdie Lee Harrell.
Barnett.—l went with papa and
mother to the Georgia Baptist Assoeta
lion in Warrenton last week I enjoyed
it very much I saw a good many
preachers. I know Rev. R. E. L. Har
ris He preached the introductory ser
mon. His text can be found in Heb.
11:24 25. The subject, Moses’ Wise
Choice. I learned in Sunday school
how Moses’ mother put him in a little
basket, made water tight, and placid it
among the flags by the river and how
the king's daughter found him, and
when she opened the basket the baby
cried and she had compassion on him,
and saved his life, and adop ed him tor
her son. Mr. Harris said in his sermon,
that God put the wail in the child’s
mouth that made the girl sorry for him.
I can’t write a good piece, as I am a
small boy, but I like to contribute
something to our Corner. I enjoy read
ing it so much. Very truly.
Allen Turner.
Thompson’s Mill —As I do not see
any letters from this place, I will try to
write a few lines.
I am a member of the Baptist church
at Mulberry. Rev. G. L. Bagwell is onr
pastor; we all love him very much.
We haven’t any Sabbath school at
present, but have a good singing at onr
school bouse every second and fourth
Sanday evtn ng.
Papa takes the Index and I enjoy
reading it very much, especially the
Children's Corner.
Papa, mamma and myself attended
oui association at Auburn, and I saw
Uncle Jimmie.” Oh, how I enjoy
hearing him talk. I wish he would pay
us a visit.
I guess I wiil enter the Thompson
High School shortly. Prof. Idus Bow
den is principal. He surely is a fine
teacher. Dear cousins, I want more of
you to write to the Index , as I enjoy
reading your letters so much.
Maj’ God bless the dear old Index I
will try to write again. With best
wishes for the Index I am
Your friend,
Ara L. Parks.
Parkstore.—l sei 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 I am glad he does. We have a very
good Sunday school, of which I am a
member. My papa is our superintend
ent. My uncle is my teacher, and we
like him very much. Rev. E L. Sisk
is our pastor, who is loved by all that
know him. This is the first year he has
served us- We hope we can keep him
another year. 1 will try and write
again. Your little friend.
Lollie Shirley.
Mayfield.—As I have never written
before, nor seen a letter from any of my
little friends of Horeb Sunday school, I
will write and tell you about our school.
We have a very nice school, summer
and winter. We live in the country and
have a good church. Rev. J. H. Kil
patrick is our beloved pastor. lam a
little boy twelve years old. I joined
the church at our last meeting. I hope
all the little friends will remember me
in their prayers. My best wishes to the
Index and Children's Corner.
Henry B
James Madison.
James Madison, the fourth President
of the United States, was born at King
George, Va., March 16, 1751. He w; s
the son of a wealthy planter, was grad
uated at Princeton College when about
twenty, and then began to study law.
He took a great interest in theology,
and became well known as a defender
of the Baptists and other religious so
cieties, who ware ill treated because
they would not join the Established
(Episcopal) Church. He thought every
man had a right to his own religion, and
did a great deal to get freedom for the
people in these matters. In 1776 he be
came a member of the Virginia Conven
tion, and three years later was a dele
gate to Congress. After this he held a
great manj’ high offices, doing his conn
try good service in them all, until he
was elected President after Thomas Jef
ferson, 1809. He served for eight years,
and carried on the second war with
Great Britain till victory was won.
His goodness of heart and greatness of
mind made him everywhere loved acd
respected. He died at his country
house, Montpelier, near Orange Court
House, Va., when eighty four years old
(June 28, 1836) - Young Folks’ Cyclope
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