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pige 4 THE FUTURE CITIZEN The Future Citizen “A Paper with a Purpose” Printed by the Reformatory Boys Doing the Best They Can. Published Promptly as Often as Possible An echo of the State’s effort to give every boy a chance in life Published Every Saturday Afternoon Georgia State Reformatory J. E. LOVVORN, Supt. Entered at the Milledgeville, Georgia Post Office as Mail Matter of the Second Class Subscription: $1.00 In Advance CHAS. A STALLINGS, Foreman ABBOTT C. SIMMONS, Compositor HOWARD A. LANG, Compositor FINLEY L. BERRY,* Compositor JAMES B. SIMMONS, Compositor Brethren and Uncles of the Geo^ gia press, If you have not already done so, please place the Future Citizen on your mailing list. We will appreciate the exchange, and it will help us and won’t hurt you, if you think it will, as uncle Jack Majors say’s, just send us the “Ex.” and keep the “change.” The papers help us wonderfully in getting out our little sheet and in studying the different make-ups. besides we have plenty of boys to read them when we get through with them. Perhaps we have one or more from vour county, and they are alwav glad to get hold of a home paper. Just another word, if you see anything in the Future. Citizen worth copying you will find it credited to the original source, and if no credit is given you may rest assured it was hatched in our own incubator. A newspaper office is a mighty good place to practice honesty and and square dealing, as well as preach it, and we are scrupulously careful to tote fair. Our purpose is to help each other and even now to begin to render some service to humanity. We like for the Future Citizen to attract some public attention, hon estly if it can ; ot herwise we prefer p> “Blush unseen and waste our s weelness on the desert air.” LEARNING TO FLY It is said of the eagle that when the time arrives when the young birds should leave the nest and learn to fly, the old eagle takes one on her back and sails way up, then lumps the little fellow' out into space where he learns to fly like Uncle Remus’s rabbit climbed a tree “Kase lie’s jisl bleeged ter.” Of course the mother bird re mains within a safe distance ready to catch the ycung eaglet before he should strike the ground. Since the boys started to publish their little paper they have done double-duty themselves,and besides, have almost worked the superin tendent to death, to keep up in di recting their work, supplying copy editing their reports and stories. This working over time without extra pay has had it's logical and inevitable result. The superinten dent has struck and left the boys to go it alone. Except for this explanation all the work of every kind on this feveek’s issue has been done by the Reformatory boys aided only by a murteen year old boy scout. f I verily believe if these half a dozen boy printers were placed on a flat rock in an island in the Pacific Ocean, with a little printing out fit. a bundle of second-hand mag azines and a dog-eared dictionary, they would produce by Saturday noon a readable paper, teeming with boy life and human interest; provided they had the other hun dred boys to furnish inspiration together with department reports and wireless messages. How do they do it—Why do they do it? I-n-t-r-u-s-t and w-u-r-k. (Where’s that diction ary?) Oh yes, interest and work; that’s the answer. * * * * * This article was written by the superintendent and intended to be used as his only contribution to last week’s issue, but events of the day of publication made it necessary to leave it out to make room for an article or. the editorial page about another matter. It is inserted this week because it would apply almost as well but for the absence of the boy scout. Prayer Oils The Wheels of The Wagon of Life. No day should pass without prayer to Almighty God for guid ance. You cannot afford to live a prayerless life. A prayerless life is an empty life. The old wheels of life begin to creak when prayer is neglected. If your life is grow ing monotonous you are neglecting to pray. There is nothing that so intensifies life as to begin the day and close it with prayer. A missionary in a heathen land had grown sadly weary and dis couraged. He was going forth to his work with a joyless face, when his young wile called him back, went to him, put her hands on his shoulders and with tears in her eyes, said: “Oh, Willie, Willie! Much work and little prayer is hard work,” Then she led him to a private room, and there, kneel ing down, prayed with him as only one who loved with a true heaven ly love could prav. From that room he went forth strong in the strength which never failed him; never again was he tempted to sev er work and prayer. Prayer is helplessness casting it- N selt upon power. It is infirmity leaning on strength and misery wooing bliss. It is unholiness em bracing purity, hatred desiring love. It is corruption panting for immortality, and the earth born chiming kindred in the skies. It is the flight of the soul to the bos om of God. and the spirit soaring upward and claiming nativity be yond the stars. It is the restless dove on drooping wing turned to its loved repose. It is the soaring eagle mounting upward in its Bight, and with steady gaze pursu ing the track till lost to all below. It is the roving wanderer lookin'g toward his abiding place, where are his treasures and his gold. It is the prisoner pleading for release. It is the mariner of a dangerous sea, upon the reeling topmast, decrying the broad and quiet haven of iepose. It is the soul, oppressed by earthly soarings, escaping to a broader and purer sphere and bathing its plumes in the ethereal and eternal. Do you not see that when you neglect prayer you are neglecting the very thing that should be most vital in your lile?—The Musical Light.