Newspaper Page Text
1
AUGUST 30, J902
THE SUNNY SOUTH
SEVENTH PAGE
Hunting' Big Pish in Their Native
^ With the Household
*
&
3y JULIUS W. MULLER.
^^'VAY back in 'the times
A. i when New York was New
Amsterdam, the fat Dutch
boys used to sneak oft with
the huge-bored goose guns
of their respectable parents
and. taking row boat at
the grassy battery, would
row out Into the mouths
of either the Hudson or
East rivers to shoot por
poises. Centuries passed
and rulers of New Amster
dam pissed. New Amster-
:r. itself passed and became New York.
- eamshlps began to roar in the bay, and
the porpoises drew their shining
regularly year after year In from
• Narrows, to tumble up the rivers
within comparatively recent years
• they ceased to delight the passen-
on the ferry boats with their won-
■ -"Peed and grace. And even now
rmy be seen at times.
V ?. although porpoises are sights more
familiar to almost all who dwell
t ic American roasts, few persons
k’ a anything about them. The great
; -onion of folk who have seen them
■y!ng in the ocean, would not recog
nize Them if they raw one on shore, for
th. big . reatures look entirely different
from what one imagines from the glimps:;
of their shining backs, which is all that
shows, as a rule, when they are swim
ming.
Three truthful statements about por-
p ises generally are received with polite
jn< r - lulltv when one makes them in an
ordinarily well informed gathering. They
•ire. thru porpoises are as timid as hares,
that they are fairly good to eat and that
most sportsmanlike way of hunting
t• i“ni is without gun. spaar or any other ,
appliance for taking them.
Hunting porpoises for snort is like fox j
hunting in that it is done by only the
select few. The amusement is one that ]
requires money and time. But to those j
who follow' it. it offers the nearest thing
t coursing that th» ocean can produce
Porpoises are not only timid, but they
are ns set In their wtys as a flock of
sheep is when frightened. These two a‘-
trihutes make it possible to hunt then
without weapons in a manner unique in
sea sports.
When porpoises enter a cove or chan
nel they work it like hounds, driving th*
flsh before them until they have them
“headed" up where the
How deep water comes to an
the 2nd. Then they plunge
Porpoises among them, seizing
Play dozens at a mouthful and
Cannibal gorging as hogs would.
When they are In the
midst of their feast the sportsmen's
chance ha3 come.
Pour or more long, light row boats,
each with two oarsmen and a sitter, are
pulled swiftly and silently till they lie in
a semi-circle between the feeding school
and their retreAt to deep water. As soon
ai each boat has reached a position
where It is not more than 50 feet from iht
next one. the oarsmen pull hard toward
the Mack monsters. The sitters began to
beat the water with an oar or a plank,
taking care that at each blow the side of
the boat shall be thumped also, to make
all the din that is possible. The oarsmen
row as noisily as they can. Everything
that can be done is done to frighten the
porpoises. Usually the big rtsh are thrown
Into a panic at once, and the w'hole school
Instinctively rushes toward deep water.
But they do not rush fat, for the circle of
boats is too much for them. Only in rare
Instances do they try to break the cordon
by swimming between two boats. If no
noise were being made to terrify them,
they would dive under the craft and thus
-^rh safety. But the noise frightens and
bewilders them. They race away, run
ning as far as they can. till they are
turned again by the shallow' w*ater. Back
they come, swimming with glorious speed,
shining like the varnished sides of a black
racing yacht, snorting and puffing with
terror. Again they stop, within a hundred
yards or so of the advancing 'boats, and
dart up the channel once more. Gradual
ly the boats close in. and gradually each
run of the porpoise school gets shorter,
until at last they are wallowing and
tumbling in a confined space, herded ac
tually like sheep.
Th*n the boats slow' up and edge in only
inch by inch, every man redoubling his
exertions in the noise-producing line. If
the boats were to close In suddenly now.
the huge fellows in their terror might
Rounder at them and upset them Into
the air or smash the bottoms out of them.
But by closing in very gradually, the
frightened school is driven imperceptibly
Into shoal water until all at once they are
stranded hard and fast. Then comes
ground and lofty tumbling that is best
viewed at a distance; for when from 500
to 700 pounds of porpoise flesh is beating
a cove, now and then flying five or more
feet into the air. small boats are better
off when they lie out of reach of the
commotion.
The sjf>rtsmen whom T know as por
poise hunters are satisfied almost always
with the excitement of the “drive” and
rarely try to kill the porpoises. There
fore. they aim to begin their sport while
the tide is on the flood, so that the strand
ed fish are able to work off again after
a half hour or so. when the tide has risen
enough to deepen the water of their trup.
But sometimes the porpoises run up too
far into shallow water in their fear.
In one hunt In which I participated, the
fish became so terror stricken at the ap
proach of the boats that the three big
gest ones threw themselves clear of the
water entirely and lay, with tremendous
lashings and poundings, high and dry In
the sedges. It was quite impossible to
save them, for when a porpoise is fighting
for life it would mean broken limbs or
worse to get anywhere within reach of
it. An attempt was made to carry lines
across them and over them and so haul
them off and launch them again. But in
their fierce struggles the fish hurled blind
ing showers of mud and water all around
them, frustrating the attempt. By this
time the fishermen had gathered and
they did not view our efforts with pleas
ure or sympathy, for apart from the
commercial value of a porpoise, fishermen
and porpoises are bitter enemies, because
the creatures will clean out a channel
In one tide, devouring and killing every
fish in it before they move on. A school
of five or six porpoises will destroy many
thousand fish In a day. So the fisher
men prevailed on us to 'abandon our at
tempt to save their foes.
Each of these porpoises weighed prob
ably 400 pounds. They were sold to a
t.sh rendering factory which paid $2o each
Element
CONTINUED FROM SIXTH PAGE.
Swordfish taken off Block island.
for them Just as they lay
Cornmn* on the shore. Th# flsher-
cisl Value men stuck them and al-
of lowed them to bleed to
«H* death as pigs are slaugh-
Porpoise. tered. The commercial
value of the porpoise lies
In the fact that there hardly Is a part of
It that cannot be utilized. Its thick, oily
to igh skin makes excellent shoe laces
and has been used to make shoes. Its oil
is abundant and in particular that gain
ed from Its liver is as clear and thin as
water and makes fine lubricant for guns
and other delicate work. fle * h £ j ml ’ ht turn and run at the sailing vessel,
rich and well flavored, and although ole- with the latte
lar commodity in the fish markets of the
country.
The bones and offal of the porpoise
make good fertilizer, so that there is
really no waste at all. Yet there is
comparatively little industrial Ashing for
porpoises, because, although the creature
is valuable commercially, its strength is
such that it ruins the nets, while to spear
it demands rather more cruising and work
than would be profitable. Now and then
one or more porpoises become entangle'tl
In the huge menhaden seines, and then
there are woe and anger, for the great
shining black fellows will hurl themselves
blindly in all directions and usually suc
ceed In tearing great gaps into the costly
nets, not only damaging them severely,
but also often liberating the menhaden.
If they happen to become so badly en
tangled that they cannot escape, the por
poises are hauled alongside of the steam
er, shot, clubbed or harpooned, and taken
aboard to go into the rendering vats for
their oil.
One day we were lying In a flat calm
off the famous Romer shoals in the lower
harbor. The water was as smooth as a
floor and there was not a ripple on it.
At once the dripping black fin of a por
poise showed about a quarter of a mile
away. One or the party tired at it with
a rifle and hit It, as was shown By the
sudden leap of the flsh. Then it sank,
but reappeared some distance away.
Now, we had been lying In that part
of the sea for more than an hbur wait
ing for wind, an<^ In all that time the
only living thing that we had seen was
this one porpoise. Y'et in a quarter or
an hour from the time of firing the shot
the water was dotted for several miles
with porpoise fins, all heading straight
for the wounded one. And within a
few seconds the sea there was being
lashed into froth as If a whirlwind were
rotating on It. Again and again the
wounded porpoise sprang into the air,
sometimes to rise 5 or even S feet from
the surface. Once or twice we saw other
porpoises actually leap after It. and bite
at It while it was In mid air. The flsh
had been driven to fun' by the scent of
blood, and far away as they were, we
could hear the sounds of their snapping
teeth at times.
The tragedy was ended almost as fast
a- it had begun. Twenty minutes prob
ably had not elapsed before the ocean was
as placid as tt had been before .‘he " r9t
porpoise appeared. Not a fir[ remained In
sight. When our vessel finally drifted to
the spot, the water still was darkened
with blood and oil—that was all that re
mained to tell of a fight that had
made the sea resound for miles *voun<T
The timidity of the porpoise takes the
real zest from hunting It. This fault can
not be found with the sword hsh which
is at its best at this time, especially on
that part of the Atlantic coast off Mar
thas Vineyard.
Swordfish are daring and game and
dangerous They wHl Aght till the last
gasp 6 and often they will 4>t wait to
ga ’ p be attacked. A swordfish
n.nrfera is n0 ‘ eaught until he is
of l dead and you can’t always
C»m»lrfn tell whether he is dead
Agsinil or only shamming. If he
Sword Flafc.is only shamming, a long
sword presently will come
poking around in an unpleasantly inqulr-
fng manner.
Most persons have a general, vague
idea that the swordfish Is of the general
character of the shark, and that he Is
also closely related to the sawfish. There
is not the least relationship between
either of the three. The sawfish belongs
to the ray family and the swordfish is
nearly related to the mackerels.
Then comes the most dangerous part
of the pursuit. Before that, there al
ways was a chance that the swordfish
must go out in a smuli boat, haul up the
line and give the fish the blow of grace.
Armed with a keen lance, a fisherman
drops into the little boat that dances
on the swell, and rows to the cask that
lies on the water without motion. Ar
rived there, he hauls in the line hand
over hand. He may pull himself right
up alongside of the lish, lance him to
death and hold him until the big vessel
comes up, with no more irouble than
it would be to haul in a log. And he
may not.
The first motion of the line may awaken
the swordfish and start him off on a pace
madder than ever. Or, and this has hap
pened often, the fish, in his combined ter
ror and rage, will turn impetuously on the
little boat and strike it savagely with his
swor^. In swordfishing communities,
men hardly bother to mention it when a
swordfish pierces the bottom of small
boats, unless there was some especially
aginous. a fresh porpoise steak, well broil
ed. makes an excellent dish. The meat
is very dark and does not look nice, which
may be one reason why it is not a popu-
But the advantage was with the latte,
for, in a fair breeze, it could move at
least as fast as the flsh could with the
handicap of the cask. But now somebody
Poised for a Blow.
narrow escape from being transfixed.
The swordfish is so immensely strong
that the thin planking of a row boat
offers practically no obstacle to his ter
rible weapon and if the man happens to
be over the spot that is struck, he is sure
to be severely wounded, it not killed out
right. There are many instances <5T the
latter, and scores on scores <h* cases of
injuries, many being of frightful char
acter, as may be inferred from the cir
cumstances under which a man works
when stanGing or sitting flfff boat.
JZ?
Got Both Kinds of Education.
Cosmopolitan: Most railroads are. for
all ordinary intent^ and purposes, owned
by the president of the company. The de
tails ar* too many and too absorbing for
any man to know much about them unless
he gives ail his time and strength to the
task. So the present “proprietor" of the
Pennsylvania system is Alexander John
ston Cassatt. Mr. Cassatt was born in
Pittsburg in 1839. soon after the line I
have described was opened to his native
city. It will be a sad fact to some to
learr. that he was highly educated. Many
will feel sure that if he had not been
educated he would now be proprietor of
the earth. Rensselaer Polytechnic insti
tute and Heidelberg university gave him
his education in the book line. Then he
submitted himself to another kind of ed
ucation. In 1859 and I860 he was a mem
ber of a surveying party in Georgia. In
1S61 he entered the service of the Penn
sylvania company as rodman. A rodxnau
has to work; he has to work like the man
with the hod. A gentleman who squints
through a telescope at the horizon tells
him to walk a few miles and then walk a
few more miies and be blankety-blank
quick about it and never mind the bram
ble bushes and the poison ivy and to come
back to camp after dark when the tele
scopes won’t work. Well, this young man
Cassatt took all his medicine and looked
pleasant, and asked for more. He got it.
Hard w-ork came to him as trouble came
to Job. He did all of it Nothing got
away if ho saw it first.
pecked into silence, he would say). He
says that he is no babbler, and thprefore
he is no bachelor.
The Householder who wrote the “An
nabel Lee" letter must be a promising
‘kid." Of course, boys and girls will
love each other, and some of these loves
last unto the gate of silence. But it is
surely wiser to wait about marriage.
People who really love will love on
through the waiting. And you must not
take Poe for an example, dear boy, for
he wast a poet, and poets can do things
that would not be condoned in a man of
good common sense.- For instance, Mrs.
Clemm would not, I think, have "kept
boarders and helped eke out a living"
so generously if her son in law had not
been a gifted man. There is but one
other such mother in law in history who
was so gracious and kindly disposed and
that was Naomi.
Our Little Mother has promised to tell
us some telepathic experiences, and 1
hope she will do so soon. I do so de
light In these soul mysteries.
In the interim, you might, if you so de
sire. send me your address and perhaps I
can give you a little light on the subject.
I assure you that it will be a pleasure.
I see that our Household Physician has
“fallen” Into poetry- I read all he had
written until I came to that, then I
closed my eyes. “No." I said, ”1 won’t
read it, for the verses from the pen of
a man who does not believe in the divine
sentiment cannot possibly be worth it.
My eyes wanted to look back, but I was
resolute. I have compromised the matter
by saying that I would get some one to
read the poetry to me, while I listened
i with closed eyes and “dissected” every
! line to see if there was any soul in It.
Will Ward Mitchell, I agree with you
j in what you say of woman’s relation to
I man. A man’s character is largely what
: his mother makes it. Tt is from her he
gets his ideas and ideals of womankind,
i Most mothers do the best they can, I
! think, but whether a law is broken from ,
want of knowledge or want of thought.
. the result is eyer the same.
Who was that said something about
"monotonous hills?” Surely, my friend,
: you have not learned to view them
aright. Our Georgia hills are grand, and
to me they .are ever new. just as every
day is new. whether I look on them in
the misty dawn, ‘‘in the throbbing hush
. of noon," or in the purple gloaming. Oh,
love “the old red hills!”
By the way, I read recently where an j
Atlanta gentleman dreamed that a friend ,
in Marietta had shipped him * box of
peaches, and waked up to find it d0> He
seemed to think it was telepathy. Now,
I know how delicious peaches are. and I
don’t think it waS a case of “far feeling,”
or hearing, but simply a case of far
smelling!
We are glad indeed to see our Margaret
Richard in the Household .again, and
here is another poet who has fluttered in
among us with her graceul “fan.” We
welcome her and the other new-comers.
Tessa Roddy, a widower who read your
letter requests me to thank you for your
kind words about second marriages. He
said your letter was “timely.”
Iky Heartsill, if I had a flying machine
I would sail over to see you when the
glorious Indian summer days come, and
I would try to land in the potato patch
just when you and Pete were making
things lively. I love to see things a-grow-
ing, but you would have to keep the po
tato bugs off me. Of course, I am not
afraid of the little things, but my expe
rience with these “creeping things” has
taught me that they will crawl under
frills as quickly as they will over them,
and that is so embarrassing!
ITALY HEMPERLT.
Molding Future Home Makers.
The talks of ye Householders please me
greatly. I am glad to hear so many
voices from my dear native state. South
Carolina. Tessa Roddy, I agree with
you; the mother is at fault when she
allows herself to be relegated from her
rightful place as the honored head of the
home to the position of “house drudge.”
The mother has the molding of her
daughters’ character, and should com
mand this respect, enlist them as her
willing helpers and train them to be
efficient housekeepers.
To make a home in the true sense of
the word is the brightest office of woman.
The mother, standing at the beginning of
the life of the future home maker, plants
the impulses and principles that take
deepest root, and since the home is the
basis on which rests the welfare of the
nation, how important it is that this
future home maker be trained aright.
I heartily agree with “Salesman” in
regard to the farmer. Some of the
noblest, most refined men I have known
were farmers. Life on the farm is not
necessarily one of drudgery. I sometimes
think the most fortunate of women are
the wives of up-to-date farmers; but then
ail wives should he happy who preside
over homes where love reigns supreme.
Don’t you really think so, “Doctor?”
With a word of sympathy for dear,
brave Tom Lockhart, I shall say good-
by to the Household and to Mother Meb.
How sweet the word “mother” to me,
who has no mother of my own.
ALLIENE GARNER.
St. Petersburg, Fla.
That Deadly Disease.
The “Doctor” has called again: Is the
Household w’orse?
Did you leek in the corner, hunting a
nurse?
Well, mamma isn’t there; she’s at home,
if you please,
who could need such an atmosphere more
than a mother? Then take my hand,
dear mentor, and lift me to a clearer
plane of understanding—that I may not
need to stop by the wayside and wait
for light. HOPE.
Columbus, Ga.
Shail “Obey” Be Omitted?
Though living in ana loving Georgia, I
am a native of the Old Tar Heel State,
and loyal to her. I am often called down
for singing a song learned at school,
where our teacher told us that only one
other slate—Maryland—had a song all to
itself. This began in this wise, as I re
member:
“Ho, for Carolina:
That’s the land for me;
In her happy borders
Dwell the brave and free.
And her bright-eyed daughters,
None can fairer be.
Oh: it is the laid of love
And sweet liberty.”
Sentiment’s story interested me. I a*so
married young—have been married three
years, and am not yet twenty. My hus
band. too, is very young. We married
for love. We were poor, and still are.
Our dearest hope is to have a little home
of our own—then no more boarding
houses. We are happy. We have petty
trials, but it is sweet to share them to
gether. I am fond of reading and I en
joy hearing the Household tell about the
new books they have read. I cannot do
this myself. I can tell when a book
pleases m^. but I cannot analyze it. I
have no talent that way; no special tal
ent for any one thing, I fear.
What do you Householders think about
omitting the word “obey" in the marriage
ceremony? It was not used in mine. It
is useless, and may cause unpleasant
feelings. If a wife truly loves her hus
band she will conform to his wishes when
these* are reasonable, but “obey” sounds
servile and implies a command—an un
known quantity where love rules—is it
not so. “Doctor?”
Our poor Brother Tom has my heart
felt sympathy. Few of us, stricken as he
has been, could say as he does, “Thy
will lie done.”
Will not some South Carolinans tell the
Household the story of the one whose
name 1 sign to this letter?
CATEECHEE.
Covington, Ga.
Life’s Aftermath.
(A Soldier’s Love Story.)
The Stag Band I’m so anxious to meet
That I’ll venture in. Doctor, keep your
seat.
I’ll sit here, if you please, by our invalid
Tom,
Whose soul is grand, like the state he
hails from;
And here’s our court jester, Ikey Heart-
sill!
Don’t be frisky, Ike; be good and keep
still.
It’s because I wished to be with you, I
say,
That I’ve brought this little rhymed story
today.
Once I lived in the broad-plained, mighty
west,
Where the sun seems to sink straight
down in the earth;
No hills, no woods, the eye aches for
rest,
Till Night to her lovely stars gives
birth.
But. as by magic, on those bleak plains
Progress has built her cities white;
Home-songs and music’s pleasant strains
Answer the coyote’s bark at night. ?
And stee! rails lie like jewel-veins
Over the lands wehe the wolf still
prowls,
And churches and school houses dot the
plains.
Where lately hooted the desert owls.
That their perfume may softly aspire
And give of their golden heart’s grace
To this holy and heavenly place.
There are none that may enter therein
Of the living and loving outside—
Not one. tho’ the soul would fain guide
Some dearest of all and there hide
As god of its idolatry.
By some wonderful wisdom, ’tis meant
(This blessed and beautiful place)—
As a solace and source of content
To the heart with its weariness spent.
And it holds in its hidden retreat
Some healing and help for the soul
That will make it harmonious, whole
And fit for the duties that must
To each back their burden adjust.
On its walls (in this solitude, sweet
And restful, as are mother arms
To the little one sleepy and tired)
There are pictures, whose colors endure
Forevermore, fadeless and sure.
There our eyes may look deep into those.
Whose light the earth no more knows;
And there lips may with tenderness smile
Responsive with innocent guile,—
Whose silence means yearning and long
ing
To the hearts that can never forget.
There are echoes there waiting to meet
(Soft sounds the sweet solitude thronging)
And comfort the sfcnse, that alarms.
And loud clamor of life have assailed
’Till endurance hath faltered and failed.
Vibrant voices we hunger to hear.
Thro’ the whole live-long day and the
night;
There they come to us soft and so clear
In their accents of faithful love.
That we weep there with wonder, delight.
That they call to us. dear, and so near.
The;r? are figures that bend over above.
As we lie with some agony torn.
And utterly weary and worn.
That have broad, brooding wings, as a
dove
That hovereth, hideth her nest.
And they bring to us blessing of rest.
That rest that the child on the breast
Of its mother knows, perfect and pure.
And healed of heart and of sin
In its silence we hide and abide.
Naught may reach us there. Neither the
fret.
Nor the fury of storms that despoil
The soul of its fair symmetry.
There no mem’ry may come to the soil
Of the day and its wearisome toil.
Just the spirit abideth of peace
And a sense of the soul’s sweet release
From the labor of life and Its living.
Its strength and its sustenance giving.
Each life hath this holies of holies.
Where the soul may go in unafraid
And on the white stone of its altar.
Lay its burden and be there at rest.
JULIA NEELY FINCH.
Birmingham, Ala.
And there, to a town that was new and
sav.
Came a one-armed soldier, dusty and
worn.
Garbed in faded confederate gray,
Sad, but manly and not forlorn.
“Friends, I’ve come,” he said, “from a
conquered land.
My home was far on a Georgia hill;
Have you here a place for a broken man
Who feels life may have some mission
still?”
His words, that were spoken calm and
low.
Fell not in vain on the twilight air.
For the western heart is ever a-glow
To help a brother in woe or care.
Their doors were opened, their hands
stretched free.
Women, as well as men, he found
Large In heart as in form to be.
Never stopping on half-way ground.
He had come his need and asked to
stay,
If he might find work for his strong
one arm;
Never would westerners say mm nay,
They gave him work and sympathy’s
balm.
And one day as he looked to the south
afar
And thought of the home he had loved
and lost.
There came a girl with eyes like a star—
As he saw her, a shade his features
crossed.
And his look went down to his empty
sleeve.
But she smiled so gently his soul grew
still,
Trying u> escape that "deadly disease.” | And h( , sald half u g htly: "Would you be-
To think we’ve been risking such "instant
death"
Is enough, I am sure, to take away our
breath
And to thir.k not one of us knew we were
sick
Until in came "Doctor" with glasses and
stick!
Felt the Household’s pulse and made such
a diagnosis
As set us to shivering and banished our
roses.
To write us an epitaph, I hope he’ll be
willing.
As M.D.’s are content when they do the
killing.
But our ‘’Doctor” is a queer one, as you
may ail see,
He has made siveral visits and never said
“fee,”
And the name of our disease is such a
jaw-breaker.
If we can’t find his dictionary, we must
turn Quaker.
That you’ll all have no "dreams," and
drink only water.
Is the earnest request of "Buttercup’s"
daughter.”
EVIE M. L.
A Cry for More Light.
Julia Neely Finch. I am in full sym
pathy with your beliefs and your beau
tiful thoughts. I believe we stand on the
threshold of wonderful developments, and
that when we realize these they will
seem perfectly natural. We are learn
ing to know ourselves, but I am just be
ginning the alphabet of this grand self-
knowledge. and I ask your help, dear
sister, to guide me to the light. What
do you mean exactly by "unseen forces?"
Mind, I don’t think the idea that there
are such forces is at all visionary, but I
wish to grasp the full meaning. You
surely radiate magnetism; I feel the
thrill of a kindred bond between us. I
earnestly wish to possess this soul-power.
I believe it will give me a stronger in
fluence for good to those about me—
create a more Christian atmosphere; and
lieve
I saw my old home on the Georgia hill?
Saw it stand, in a dream, on the hill’s
green brow
As before it was wrapped in the raid
er’s flame.
My parents? Ah! they sleep quietly now.
After the fight and the wreck that
came.
It was not in their hearts to humbly
bow
And I—1 am proud to. bear their name.
Proud to have fought for a cause they
deemed just,
But a lonely void I sometimes feel;
Friends, fortune gone, and my hope3 in
the dust.
Ah! the wounds of the heart are hard
to heal!”
A warm tear fell on his hand, he turned,
In her sweet, wet eyes he thrilling read
What his timid passion had never
learned—
That love with her sympathy was wdd.
Together, hands clasped, they stood the
while
The sun went down on the wide, still
plain.
And the sky. rose-colored, wore a smile
Like hers that had claimed his spirit’s
pain.
The story’s sequel? It can be seen
In a happy home in the far, strange
west.
Where the bright-haired girl reigns like
a queen
In the soldier’s heart she loved the best.
MANANA.
Inman Park.
Refuge.
Each life hath a holy of holies;
A secret and sacredest place.
Where abideth and hideth an altar,
On which is sweet sacrifice made
Of many an earth-born desire.
And fragrantest flowers are laid.
Dear friends of the Household: You
write so beautifully about kindness and
helpful sympathy. I picture many of you
in bright, cheerful homes, all sunshine,
and I do not envy you. though I sit in
the shadow, hut I wonder if some of you
kind women will not help to And me a
home where I may be useful to you and
earn a living, as I most earnestly desire
to do. I can satisfy you as to references,
respectahilil /, age, capacity for work,
etc., if yo\> will write to me In care of
Mrs. Bryan. Address H. D.. Atlanta,
Ga.
The Key.
The Ills we see.
The mysteries of sorrow, deep and long.
The enigmas of permitted wrong.
Have all one key.
This sad, strange world is but one
Father’s school;
All chance and change His love shall
overrule.
She Did Not Deserve To Be Remem
bered.
Silence is golden. but I cannot refrain
from breaking it this bright day to ask
permission of the Household to join their
cheery circle. I look forward eagerly
every week to the coming of The Sunny
South, and on its arrival turn first to
the Household page. The letters are so
interesting.
Old Maid’s account of her summer out
ing was quite entertaining. Next to tak
ing a holiday trip myself I enjoy hearing
others tell of their outings. I shouldn’t
wonder if Doctor had experienced a
change of heart, as he has completely
changed his theme. I suspect the House
hold girls made it rather warm for him.
His story was interesting and contained
food for thought.
I hope “Poetical Old Bachelor” may yet
find one whose views and tastes may ac
cord with his. and who may erase from
memory’s tablet the one who betrayed
his trust. A girl who could not remain
true to a sweetheart who was making
so noble a sacrifice hardly deserves to
be remembered. If she could not be
faithful for a few years how could she
stand the test of a life time? Be more
careful next time, Bachelor, and try to
find one
“With heart as true as God’s own stars
And soul as pure as heaven.”
With best wishes for the Sunny South
and the Household, and a special word
of remembrance to our sick friend. Tom,
I sign myself EVANGELINE.
Surrender.
Once to Christ I was a stranger.
Heeding not His offered love.
Turning from the gentle pleading
Of the spirit, holy dove.
In the world I wandered aimless,
B( arlng burdens all alone—
Burdens that He would have lightened
Had I knelt before his throne.
Now I love and serve the Savior,
And He rules my daily life;
Keeps my rebel heart In order.
Stills my spirit’s hurtful strife.
With true service I will praise Him,
Till the hour T come to die,
When I trust this arm may hear me
To a home beyond the sky.
SADIE HINSON.
Why He Came Southward.
Once, two years ago, I knocked on the
Household door and was kindly spoken to.
but not admitted. Then I was in the land
of the Ozarks. Now I am in the heart
of the sunny south, and the chief cause
that induced me to come here was read
ing the letters in the Household that told
so eloquently of the beauties of the
south and the golden opportunities It held
for young people to establish themselves.
I came, I saw, and at last my heart Is
conquered, for I find here the kindest
people I ever knew.
I am sojourning for the present in the
“Pittsburg of the south,” and I trust that
Mother Meb will kindly open the door
to a stranger and make room for
SHERLOCK
Women Should Have Men Friends.
I have been reading the Household at
tentively, and. with due respect to those
who seem to doubt the advisability of
friendship between the sexes, I wish to
say that emong the friends that women
and girls draw around them there should
be some men—young men and old ones.
The friendship of men is more broad
ening. more unselfish and more lasting
than that of average women. Of course,
there are noble exceptions.
A friendship between a well-brought-up
woman and an honorable man is of bene
fit to each, and that there are not more
of such helpful relations between the
sexes is, I fear, more the fault of
women than of men. Woman is fond of
conquest; she enjoys a flirtation. I, too,
liked the same game of coquetry,
but I could not bring myself
to sacrifice the esteem of the
man whose friendship I wished to
hold a:;^ civ own self-respect for a little ,
I side play. By using a little dignity and
reserve, it was easy to keep the line
just where I wanted It. and I found my
self possessed of valuable men friends
who soon perceived I was not trying to
.turn them into lovers. Probably I could
have had every one of them to make love
to me (for men will try to please women),
but what would I have gained? And
how much I would have lost!
Of course a woman must exercise great
circumspection in chdosing the man
whom she makes her friend. Some men
carrot understand such a friendship.
They are not to be relied upon, being on
too low a moral plane to comprehend
that a relation between men and women
may be free of passion or sensuality. In
some insts roes. too. there may he self-
deception. Two persons (as in the case
of “Hopeless”) may imagine they are
fostering a pure friendship. when they
are digging up a burning passion.
I have spoken from a heart sincere. I
ajn surf It is a mistake to believe there
can be no pure and strong friendship
between men and women.
OPTIMIST.
Louisville, Ga.
Aspiration.
A kinship with all noble souls T claim;
Even I—small, weak, obscure;
Yet for the same high goal I make my
aim.
Where they stand, safe, secure.
For who may know by what rough, toil
some ways
They reached that lofty height?
Through what long, lonely nights and
weary days
They fought the mighty fight?
And as I feel this spark of heavenly fire
A-glow within my breast.
May I not. too, toil, struggle and asplra
To reach the mountain crest?
Where stand the lofty souls of all tha
ages.
With strength and courage high.
Who wrote in light upon the world’s great
pages
Names which will never die.
FANNIE E. MCDONALD.
Fort Pierce. Fla.
Receiving and Losing.
A little child is born:
A sweet, new life is begun.
To the home is given a dearer Joy
By the smile of the sinless one.
A little child is dead;
Two hearts in anguish bow
By the cradle that held their vanished
hope
In the home that’s desolate now.
Oh! little ones that are pone.
And little ones left to us still.
You were sent with a purpose divine—
A mission you each fulfill.
Heap sweetest flowers on the grave
Of the lost that still are dear;
But fill the hearts of the little ones left
With the sweetness of love and cheer,
CLARA COX EPFERaON
Algocd, Tenn.
Juat the Same.
You’d say it was a foolish game
To stuff a horse's lifeless head.
Lying a skeleton. long dead.
With tsts of cotton fill it full.
And bid the horse revive and pull;
And yet ’tis almost Just the same
To stuff a dull and empty head
That is to learning cold and dead;
To make a mindless being wise
Beyond the scope of learning lies.
Again you’d say—a cruel shame
To seek to rouse a pulseless heart.
And new emotlrn to impart—
Have it renew the throb and strife
And tumult that belong to life;
And yet 'tis pretty much the same
With outward show and creed and cant
To fill a lifeless spirit’s want.
Only I he love that Christ imparts
Can move such cold, indifferent hearts.
Into the soul, barren and cold
This Mfe-renewing stream of love
Flows from the throne of God above
Into the soul barren and cold.
And straightway graces fair unfold.
Shines in the eyes and shows in deeds
Of kindness to each one who needs.
As when the Master came to earth
And gave this noble love its birth.
THE OLD MAN.
Cardiff, Ala.
w w
Talks on Timely
Topics
CONTINUED FROM SIXTH PAGE.
idea of what the American national poet
should be—
“He who would sway the soul of this
broad land
Must string his harp with cords of
sturdy iron
And strike it with a toil-embrowned
hand.”
Both he and Mr. Stanton are a head
and shoulders above Alfred Austin, Eng
land’s laureate, who received the court
appointment through possessing the
negative quality of harmlessness. He had
never allowed his poetic sandals to tread
on the toes of royalty, aristocracy or or
thodoxy. Other poets more gifted were
not possible, because they had failed to
keep their musical wings considerately
trimmed. When Tennyson passed away
his mantle rested on Watson, but that
strong spirit had thrown his chances to
the winds when he wrote “The Purple
East,” which arraigned England with a
daring severity “unparalleled in the litera
ture of protest.” What chance had a man
to be court poet who had uttered such %
grand protest as this:
“Never, oh, craven England, never more
Prate thou of generous efforts, righteous
aim!
Betrayer of a people, know thy shame!
Summer has passed and autumn’s thresh
ing floor
Been winnowed; winter at Armenia’s door
Snarls like a wolf, and still the sword and
flame
Sleep not; thou only sleepest, and ’the
same
Cry unto heaven ascends as heretofore;
And the red stream thou mightst have
staunched yet runs;
And o’er the earth there sounds no trum
pet’s tone
To shake the ignoble torpor of. thy sons;
But with indifferent eyes they watch and
see ^
Hell’s regent sitting yonder, propped by
thee,
AMul, the damned, on his accursed
throne.
“You in high places; you that drive the
steeds
Of empire; you who say unto our hosts,
“Go thither!” and they go, and from our
coasts
Bid sail the squadrons, and they sail,
their deeds
Shaking the world; lo! from a land that
pleads
For mercy, where no mercy la, the
ghosts
Look in upon you, faltering at your posts,
Upraid your parleying while a people
bleeds.
What is it stays the thunder in your
hand?
A fear for England? Can her pillared
fame
Only on faith forsworn securely stand?
On faith forsworn that murders babes
and men?
Are such the terms of glory’s tenure?
Then
Fall her accursed greatness in God’s
name.”
INSTINCT HUNT