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'T'LL FC S^Tjvl'sIV ^OTTYL-l
danger. But why does
F‘ hu 7]r with a shudder and stag-
he <lra ol 'horror of horrors! Do his
^ r - , ’ Vive him? the y
e yes u y. around a curve,
for ,,:l ' mum them an engine.
he can
approach! No
cannot,
he sees
io* wn upon tnem an
W["|r lilies Ills heart,,and ere t
A '-I" 11 {".fcomes a crash. T1
he en-
ided and the baggage car
realize then
• hovP C0
er,n woi.ing the passenger cars, car
rying death “and destruction
Kind Words From Margie.
i* ! elt ' s w , h "and destruction beneath
rying <>< <l1 ’ els
’^tvnVver'a' hay" of rest look on a sad-
1)1(1 o The aged pair, those in the
der scene- manhood aud womanhood,
( .,» n t childhood, the infanr
to the mother’s bosom—all
same fate—and this was
b'uffi ot
sweet inn 1
clasped
VVh tl at swooped down on the mer-
death . Another brakeman,
h is comrades, begins searching
ry excursionists
tr '‘Wthe wounded and dying for his
? nl r Zd friends. He finds one wander-
b "- .jously and moaning in de-
tlie
per-
beneath
tree and
; n o-unconst- . .
Sum. He leads h;ni
'reading bough of a
him to lie down; he brings him
S drink of water and leaves him for
awhile to continue his search.
Rack to the scene ot the disaster he
traces his steps. But where is Hugh,
fireman, “whom to
know is'but °ro love?” Soon he finds
the object of bis search pinioned by a
Hut already the damp dew is
beam-
looks up, smiles
“Jim, death ha
on ms brow. He
faintly, and says:
eonie in a strange form. No more will
r ker| , bright fires in the old engine
mv work is done. Tell mother, Jim,
that I took my friend’s place, that he
mVlit attend the bedside of his mother
who was dying; but for this I would
not have been here on Sunday. Tell
ln r a sweet peace lias entered my soul
I have found the wav, and do not fear
to go through the valley.;
“Tell my—you know, Jim—tell her J
died loving her to the last and to meet
me where death cannot come. Kneel
by me, old friend, and say the prayer I
limped at my mother’s knee.” Slowly
be began : “Jesus, tender Shepherd”—
but the voice grew fainter, a bushel
stillness crept over him, and the spiri
of the brave young fireman went to
the good Shepherd who marks even the
sparrow’s fall.
Mrs. Frankie Parker Davis.
Here’s What Pa Says.
“You remember when Christ had
finished speaking the young man re
plied : ‘All of these have I kept from
my youth up.’
“8o it is with me, my boy. I’ve been
practical from my youth up. You
know that my father died when I was
knee breeches, as you
Dear Mother Patience: After a
short absence L will again pay you a
visit, and as I have no subject I wish to
tell you and the Householders how
much I enjoy your chats and their
letters. *
I agree with Ellen Starwood in
saying your name should be Patience,
for I do admire that virtue of which I
have so little. Y"ou put up with our
many blots, our various mistakes and
then give us each a kind word and
gracious welcome. I hope some day to
meet you face to face, just »s many of
our band have already done. B it if
that pleasure be denied me I know we
will meet in that Great Beyond.
Merle Monte, I wish to thank you
for those kind words. I am a great
deal prouder of them than of my poor
little efiorr. I know the Householders
join me in urging you to write again
soon. Give me a clue; perhaps I know
you.
Dolores you are right about our
being more careful. Mother Hubbard
is patient, and Mr.Fairman indulgent;
but then human nature will not aiways
hold out. I hope the Easy Chair will
continue pointing out our errors.
Didn’t I enjoy “Earnest Willie’s
letter on dancing! He voiced my
sentiments exactly, and made an im
pression on my mind lhat will not
soon fade away. I wish him a long,
happy and properous life. I hope his
book may be a great success
“Ollie L. Shadows,” we were talking
at the breakfast table the other morn
ing when my sister, who is funny
any way you take her, said : “Well, we
have been Blest in many ways
and then we have been treated un
fairly in many.” Then mamma said
“Co"nt your blessings, dear, and see
which scores the greater number.”
“Why the blessings, of course,
.answered my sister. #
Yes, we are often inclined to think
God hard and unfair, but if we look
aright we find a great many more of
God’s blessings in the balance of our
lives than good deeds done. But
“Ollie L.,” I sympathize with you and
will always.
And at niglit when I kuecl down to pray
I’ll remember thee in my prayers.
Oh! “Musa,” where art thou ? I was
reading an old “Sunny” to-day and
came across your letter about how
glad you would be when the frost
would come and kill all your box
flowers. I wish it, for some of ours
(they are not mine) are more trouble
than they are worth. They have never
bloomed,' but are always promising to
next bloom season.
It was my pleasure to spend Thanks
giving in Charlotte, the “Queen City
Notwithstanding I waked with the
first rosy tip of flame from the morn
ing sun, and the first thing my eyes
rented on was the Christmas number
“Sunny South.” Now I am an artist,
albeit I cannot paint; a poet, although
I cannot sing, and at the sight of this
white Christmas gift, spotless with
out, pure within, tne last larking
phantom of my discontent slid away,
and I sa ; d to my lieirt, our recom
pense has come. And later in the day
when I received something, but I will
not tell you what, from somebody, but
will tell you who, my joy knew no
bounds. But then I wanted to be
happy; and sometimes I think our
success depends on the full measure of
our desires.
Dear old Sunny South, you
climbed into the zenith of your glory
last issue, and may you continue to
shine until every remote corner of this
blessed land shall reflect back your
rays.
The honey from the flower of our
leisure is only drained by those who
are accustomed to going straight to
the heart of things. Dalliance is
more often the bitter than we dream
of.
“Land, ho!” sings the sailor after his
ship has ploughed the waves, and his
practiced eye sweeps the horizon.
And, somehow, “Land, ho!” rings in
each child having its own rack. On
the same floor is a bright little room
with swinging cots lor the babies,
several were occupied by fat little
creatures, while on ihe lap of the
motherly nurse lay a darling little
baby only six weeks old, quietly sleep
ing. In the middle of the room is the
‘ proud.” a cushioned, railed-in enclos
ure where two or three mites of hu
manity were learning to crawl. Sus
pended from the ceiling were jumpers
and swings, while dozens of brass
railed, white curtained cots awaited
occupants. Regular hours are kept for
meals, and at 4 o’clock the children are
dressed in their own clothes to await
the coming of their mothers. No chil
dren are allowed to remain over night.
When Miss Oliver returned, the doors
of toe clothes closets were opened, and
it was a sight to gladden one's heart to
see the shelves well filled with pretty
articles of clothing all daintily clean
and mended.
As we came down stairs, the merry
jingle of the “Kindergarten” songs
greeted our ears.
Not a tear-srained face had we seen;
noihing but smiling, romping, happy
litt le specimens. We did not wonder
at it when we understood the mode of
management adopted by the youthful
matron, Miss Oliver. She has grasped
the truth, that, love and smiles are far
my memory as the new year ap- I more potent than frowns and fear, and
proaches—a new and untried territory, we felt if we were a baby, we, too,
a rocky, barren plain maybe, and, per- would readily conform with any rule
haps a land of exceeding beauty. she should lay down. Her management
And I want to know directly what I is perfect, and the most cantankerous
have to carry with me as I walk down cynic could not leave the building with
the aisles of the years. Laughter, I feelings other than of admiration for
hope, and merry singing—not exactly the object of the institution and its
“Daisy Bell,” hut something on that perfect regime ^ j
order; something that will dry the I irmsr. beg pardon of the dear House-
tear ere it has wet the cheek of sorrow, holders for the prolixity of this article,
and chase away the pains of poverty, | and, with kind wishes for ona and all,
for the poor we have always with us,
our Master hath said; and the sad,
too. I never walk down a street, or
enter a railway car but, all uncon
scious, I mark the signs of failure, the
stricken heart; and straightway I
long so to comfort. When we have
found out how litth* we can ever
know, how little we have ever done,
then, and not until then, will we be
content to leave all the impossibilities,
the unfulfilled desires, the aching de
sires and intense longings to God, for
He is what we are not. When we can
trust—perfectly trust-
hour, then, oh! then we know what
Peace on earth, good will to men
means. Land, ho! and every breeze is
thick with melodious chimes, which
are sweeter than ail the ticklings of
Christendom, for the chimes are from
pirit bells until the blazing fire leaps
am a Busy School Ma’am.
Danville, Va.
Arp’s Fish Stories.
to the accompaniment and tli
a boy wearing . _ _
are now, and it was necessary for me of t p e 0 i d Xorth State,” and I attended
to join in the practical battle of life, c hurch there. I wondered if “She”
where I’ve been ever since. As a mat- wag there, too. 1 heard a good sermon,
ter of course a man maybe practical but the sermon was nothing to com
bi physical law, and yet extremely pare w ith the music. I wondered li
;vw. t.no«vATiiv choir” didn’t catch the
sentimental in matters pertaining to
or involving mental consideration.
“1 am practical. I could prove that
assertion before any court in this
country. It lias ever been my custom,
my boy,” continued pa, “to look things
sternly in the fac-, and my disposition
to accept tliei philosophically. But 1
am not void of sentiment, thank the
Lord! When it has been proven con
clusively that cremation is absolutely
essential to the promotion of health
and life, then 1 shall acquiesce. Be
cause the disposition of the dead does
not affect the future state of the soul,
Ilary Wilson would have us be prac
tical and forsake those feelings, of
sentiment and love and patriotism
that speak in history more forcibly, as
illustrative of the civilization of. a
people, than all other characteristics
combined. Give us a people of cre-
mative tendencies and you will have a
people who, in disposition, will be cold
unsympathetic, indifferent and stilted.
“There may betimes,in extreme epi
demics, when such disposition of the
dead is nece-sary, but as a practical
pernunent custom it will never be so,
for as our Christ and many ot her bibli
cal characters were dulv buried, so I
believe our God has ordained it.
“In this age of materialism and
skepticism, and all the other issues
and schisms; when scientists tell
this, that and the other, it is
the “Heavenly choir
refrain and echo it in Heaven, when
rhe whole congregation joined in and
sang that glorious old hymn :
All liail the power of Jesus’ name,
Let angels prostrate fall.
Bring forth the royal diadem
And crown Him Lord of all.
I wish you could have heard it as it
rolled through that immense building,
out into the"busy street, drowning the
noise of passing feet and the hum ol
the electric cars. It filled my heart
with ioy and helped me to be more
joy
thankful.
Croft, N.
“Margie Willie.”
C.
Chimes.
or
to
that
for a man to tell if he is Tom, Dick
Harry, especially if he is inclined
give a believing ear to one-half
science (?) would have us accept.
‘‘I fully appreciate all that science
lias done for the human family,. and
will over welcome any advance in civili
zation that science may promulgate ,
but when it encroaches upon princi
pies of duty and right, and would
eradicate feelings of sentiment, aiu
patriotism, and bury in oblivion a
custom through , which our Savior
passed, why I call a halt.
“A few years ago they told us nie>
about a home were conducive to gno
health. To-day they say they ^ re .. ,
cause of much disease. Have the tiles'
or the scientists changed ?
“God inaugurated the system <
burial, and in His wisdom He gave u>
that which was best for us, and I doti
not that He will always provide sum-
cw.t earth for the decomposition ol me
I accept
only those things from science which
are
This world is a very good old world
after all—so I have concluded. And it
takes something to bring me to conclu-
hi< Tlie fact is there fire Christmases
and Christmases, and this one seemed
to start out crisscross from the first
but to-night it has ended beautifully
heavenly, and I am at peace with the
world and myself. I can lean hack in
my faithful old rocking chair and
dream blissful dreams,
It all came about in this way
have been working hard since last
Christmas trying to do my duty—just
tell .. | ‘ ta h;ffnot 0t sei' , | 1 ierft’he"eir S sa“ i < ;(a 0 o W
I™" 1 .”: *57Sven after I had
scrimped and shaved my own modest
desires until shey resembled the wraith
Of snow on a sunny slope and spent all
mv money buying Christmas gilts for
[howho have the honor of being re
lated to me. And then on the eve o
the auspicious day, like the proverbial
weak woman, I sat down and cried and
cried Why? Because every one
seemed to think it perfectly
for me to give gifts and expect
return. And so it came
Clear Water, Fla., Dec. 28.—We had
mullet for breakfast. They are a good
fish when fresh caught, hut get stale
and tasteless when shipped far away
I saw our host buy these on the wharf
—three good large ones for a nickh-,
and he seemed to think he was cheated
urn wr , —said he generally got them for a cent
in the darkest a piece, hut these cool mornings there
the dar t| w ^, n( . much flshing going on. Next
day the w T eather was more amiable, and
two of the boys made ready to go out
on a night’s frolic with their nets.
About sunrise we went on the wharf to
see them come in. The boat was loaded
a to the guards with mullet, speckled
dead I trout, red fish, groupers and flounders,
— — _. . number in o' 79i in all, and measuring
leaves drip with ihe harmony and the » . length. One of
nip of the old year rocks out ^^ [^g^ls rigged up her "tackle and
sea of rime smothered in sound a "d ^ firis^ rigg P - n half
your feet are planted firmly on the caugnt Lweiity t
solid ground, as you .tretch out we I- “Yhe Yly'lo tell a fish story is to let
aiming bands and cry Welcome < fellow tell his first-then beat
New Year; Gi>d is in you 1 _ . . . .
Ble.-s you all; that is LI(e * I perience in that line, and so have to
think to-day. Happy, happy Kew P onfine myse if to the truth. I have lis-
Year, dear Housenold, amen. ^ | ten ^ d wit j amazement at the other fel
lows down here. Our host was regard-
Xhp Fitch creche i ed as a truthful man as long as he lived
The Fitch C in Cartersville. He is a member of the
Drar Householders: Some of the most church, and says grace at the table, but
U,ar Jriousenuiutis. .. . ** -- I he to ld me that he had laid awake at
are not too lazy to catch them, and with
byster banks near by and sweet pota
toes for 10 cents a peck and oranges and
bananas for a desert.
But all is not gold that glitters, nor
is there perfect serenity for any good
thing in this world. Last evening we
called on Mrs. Tate, in her beautiful
home on the bluff, the most charming
of all the lovely residences that over
look the waters of the gulf. I had
known Col. Samuel Tate, of Memphis,
in liis life time, and was pleased to
learn that his widow was living here
with her son. It seeemd to me that she
had everything that liearr could wish.
A gem of a house, that was embowered
in shade, flowers and fruits, and a fine
orange grove near by. After a brief
visit, we took a sail across to the island
and on our return saw her sitting on
the varanda looking off dreamily upon
the waters. Soon we reached our home
and found tea was waiting for us. While
we were enjoying it and telling of our
evening’s pleasures, we heard the cry
of tire—that wild, weird cry that always
brings alarm and breaks up everything
in a little town. We hurried from the
room to find that Mr*. Tate’s house was
on fire, and the flames were leaping
from the windows. Everybody ran who
could run, but it too late, too late. A
whole ocean of water within a few steps,
but no way to use it—and that beauti
ful house with nearly all of its furni
ture was burned to the ground in an
hour, and the trees that had shaded it
were charred and ruined. It was the
old story of a lamp, a curtain and a
gentle breeze. The poor woman was
led silently away, sobbing her grief, as
she leaned upon the arm of a friend.
Somebody said it was a comfort to know
that she was able to lose it; but there
are some things about a home that when
it is destroyed cannot he restored or
replaced with money, and this was such
a case. Colonel Tate was much beloved
by the people of this hamlet, for he hadr
done much for it and would have done
more had he lived. I find that most of
the wealthy people here are Southern
ers. M r. Kirk and Mr. Phillips are from
Winchester, Ky. Col. Frasier is a prom
inent lawyer of Memphis, and his daugh
ter, Mrs. Doyle, a well-known contribu
tor to magazine literature. With per
haps too exceptions, the northerners do
not seem to have found-this place. The
tide, the swim has all been on the other
s i de —the Atlantic coast and Indian
river. This little peninsula that ex
tends down to SL Petersburg was al
most unknown and inaccessible until
the Orange-belt railroad was built four
years ago. It is a little narrow gauge
road that has had its troubles, hut is
getting out of them, and is fast bring
ing this lovely gulf coast into notice.
I intend to see more of it whi'e in Flo
rida. With good board and lodging for
$4.00 a week and boating and fishing for
nothing, and fish stories thrown in, I
can afford to try it a few weeks.
Bill Arp.
interesting descriptions oi the beauties
and wmiers of the beautiful and won
derful “Wliit-City” have appeared in
the dear old ‘Sunny,” but ve^y little
has been said * f the children’s building
which to me wa* one of Ihe most attrac
tive place* on the ground*
It was suggested to the good women
by a like institution in Buffalo, N. YY,
and is built in imitation of this, so I
think a description of the original
might prove of interest to “Happy
Mother,’’-Littie Auntie, &c., so venture
to enter my name as a meinoer of jour
charmed Girrie
While in Buffalo a few summers sin^e
[ spent one morning in going through
the “Fitch Creche” on Swan street. It
is a home-like three-story brick build
ing, and was established ten years ago
bp the philanthropic Benj. Fitch (in
whose honor it is named), and U sup
ported by the provisions made in his
will for the purpose. Its object is to
furnish a bright, cheerful, secure
MtUe at ones 1 ''while '’their'' molhers I the tide goes down they are left on the
are Itrivh’g by “the sweat of sandy banks by the thousands and are
their brows” to eke from the world an I hauled off by the wagon load , f< ?F
honest livelihood. It would be hard to lizing the orange groves and the gar-
over-estimate the good accomplished dens.” _ .. _
during its brief existence. It is not I Hows that for fishing
nights lis’ening to the roar of the mul
let as they splashed over one another
in cruising through the waters of the
harbor. He said it was like the sound of
many waters, and that he had seen them
in schools a mile long and a quarter of
a mile wide, and so thick there wasent
room for them in the water, and they
had to leap out of it, and it was this
leaping and splashing that made the
roaring noise. He said the boatmen
dident dare to cross their pathway
when they were on a scursion for so
many would jump into the boat that it
would sink it. “Waren’t that before
the war?” said I. “Oh, no,” said he,
“though I don’t believe there are as
many now as there used to be, for when
I first moved here, about ten years ago,
T saw women go down and wade out a
piece toward the channel and let the
mullet jump into their aprons and pet
ticoats. There’s a creek or bayou a few
miles down the coast where they run
up sometimes in high tide and when
The Pessimist.
The man of all men the most miser
able is, methinks, the pessimist. Who
enjoys living with such a person! In
deed, he dislikes living with himself.
A party of people had been spending
the evening at a friend’s house, where
the pessimist had seemed to set himself
forth as the sole and peculiar victim of
all the ills of the universe. As the
party came out into the open-air, the
pessimist in advance, he exclaimed:
“This is always the way! Such
things never happen except to me!”
“What’s happened to you now?”
“Why, don’t you see? It rains I”
It was another pessimist who once
declared that he was ready to end his
life, and that he was going to throw
himself out of the w ndow of the
fourth-story room in which he sat.
At this, a friend who happened to
be in the room rose and opened the
window wide.
“Put that down 1” exclaimed the
melancholy man, indignantly. “Do
you want to give me my death o’ cold?”
Don’t fill your lungs full of stove
polish when endeavoring to polish the
range; put a little strong soap suds in
the blacking, stir until well mixed,
then apply to the range and see if there
is not less dust and a brighter polish.
Ths boys
one
natural
none in
about that
sectarian and children weeks | iSS
I went to bed th.t_nlght with, temp
to
in my~ throat (might have been the
erane seed that choked Anacreon
ri-ath) and a stone for a pi low, and
ht : If this is the legitimate re-
months of teaching, of the
plotting and planning necessary to
thoug
suit of
keep the lads and lasses enthused, in-
.51*1,0,1 h„sv. why it was not a jimp-
iui | — * -boulders siuce me giau uaj
dea ‘l. I am practical, hut I I and hour that 1 assumed t^l^M^t-ion
soifseed’ lift toward the heavy weight
J iHoeiLtiirv that has been resting
glad day
It tha ornpal
and hour
conducive to the happiness of the 1 of and eternity ; in other
human family.” words became a school ma am, if you
Eugene Edwards. ^
dJtmopolis, Ala.
ouls and minds and
to six years that are admitted from 6
a. m. tcT 6 p. m daily for the nominal
sum of five cents as board. We were
ushered into the snuggery by a cherry
faced nurse, clad in the uniform of the
institution—blue gown, white apron
and cap. Miss Oliver, the matron, be
ing absent, we were invited into the
Kindergarten, where the older children
w T ere going through a lesson in colors.
The work w 7 as highly creditable. The
door was open, and from up stairs came
the coo of crawffing little one*, varied
by an occasional squeal of infant wrath.
From here we went to the dormitory
where sleepy little ones take their
afternoon naps. Pretty snow white
cots surrounded the room—scrupu
lously clean and inviting enough to
tempt the millionaire’s pampered dar-
lin°\ Up stairs the little ones are
“tubbed” and put into the creche
clothes while their own wee garments
are hung on a peg to avoid confusion,
weeks. They
found in their nets or they would tear
the net all to pieces. They use a little
harpoon that is called a grain. It has a
long pole in the socket and a strong cord
attacked and so when the fish is struck
the pole bounces out of the soc ket and
the fish is caught with the line. I am
just in my A B C’s yet and haven t fish
ed any, but I am listening and watch
ing, and in a day or two will try my
hand and, in course of time, will be able
to tell my yarn. The little girl has
made a little spade and digs in the
sand beach for fiddlers and sand crabs
and runs away from every one she
throws uy.
These people seem to have more time
to frolic than to do anything else, but
it bents baseball or football and a frol c
that-brings in fish and oysters and sun
burnt cheeks is a good thing. No fear
of perishing in this region with fish at
a cent a piece or cheaper still if you
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•DR.’
vUlCfj
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