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Tfi® SOUTHERN WORLD. JULY lS, 1884.
Our Young Folks.
“The world, dear child, ia aa we take it, and
Life, be aure, ia what we make it.”
| For the Southern World.]
JIM'S FAITH,
BY IDA HUBNER,
would put us to a good deal of trouble, men on each side of the house, andti
I But let me see; you like to make clothes retired to rest.
| ior your big doll. How would you like | About an hour afterwards he went}
[Second Grade ivy Street School, Atlanta, Ga.l to have some beautiful pieces of silk rounds, and found the men arran,
— orwl cmfin lilro cniiRin’H new dress, and thus:
DANE GOODRICH.
BY MRS MARY H. CLEVELAND.
Dame Goodrich aat by her cottage fire
Lonely and Bad on a cold dark night,
Watching the embcra grow pale and expire,
Yielding no warmth and giving no light;
While the enow-king on hia icy car
Unshed wildly along the leaden sky,
And duatlng hia royal robea sent down
Soft ahowera of ermine from on high.
Said he: “I'll marry the earth to-night,"
Aa he ihrew a brlde’a vail over her face,
Studded with diamonda Hashing with light;
“ No queen can wear auch elegant lace;
To honor my nuptials I shall fling
On the bare trees garlands of feathery flowers;
And white as the down of an angel's wing
Are the lilies in my fairy bowers;"
But the simple dame could not admire
The handiwork of the monarch old,
And would give it all for a blazing lire
As she aat and shivered with the cold.
The marriage over, the revel done,
Minstrels no longer play through the air,
The grand old organ ceased to Hound,
And stars look down on a world most fair.
Still Dame Goodrich is keeping her seat
Lonely and sad on that winter’s eve,
Her weary eyes will not close in alcep,
The warmth of tho hearth she dare not leave.
She thought of tho long bright summer days,
Of the happy past forever gone;
Friends of her youth in a misty haze
Were gliding before her one by one,
And she said: "What wait I for, O, Lord T
Is there yet some task on earth for me ?
A broken reed, I can do no good,
No fruit grows on the withered tree."
But hark) A loud crash disturbs the night,
Like thunder’s deep sound or cannon’s roar; I
From her chair she starts, now wild with fright, |
Throwing open wide the door—
“Great GodI ’tin the railroad bridge,’’ she said,
“And the morning train is almost due,
I kuow by that star just overhead,
Alas, alas, what can I do ?
For a signal I must give straightway
To stop the approacli of the coming train,
Or many a heart that throbs to-day
Shall never beat on this earth again! ’’
Forgetting the cold blast sweeping by,
And her garments thin and all threadbare,
She lifted her trembling hands on high
And, kneeling, poured forth a fervent prayer;
Site prayed for guidance to act aright,
In this dark hour of grief and woe,
And hor altar cushion of spotless white,
Pure and soft was God’s beautiful snow.
And surely strength was given her then,
For now her arms seem not to tiro
As bearing aloft her torn straw-lied,
She waits to kindle a beacou lire;
A box of matches, long stored away,
She prizes far more than shining gold,
She has kept them safe tor a rainy day,
And their value cannot be told.
She hears a roar like a coming storm.
Then the engine’s whistle, clear and shrill.
With the first gray light of early dawn
I* echoing far from hill to hill;
She throws a lighted match ou the straw,
And soon a bright and blazing Are
Sheds ou the snow, a roseate glow,
The flames ascending higher and higher;
But fast the rusliiug train comes on,
Nor seems at all to check its speed.
“ Oil, stop,’’ she cries, “ the bridge is gone! ”
Tho warning yet they will not heed;
She waves her feeble hands ou high,
In frantic screams she wastes her breath,
For see, already passing by
They hurry on to meet their death I
They little know the swollen stream,
That swept the great strong bridge away,
Is surging on with an angry gleam,
Hungering for a nobler prey.
But now a sharp, discordant sound
Breaks the calm stillness of the morn—
Senseless the poor old dame sinks down,
“Thank GodI thank GodI the brakes are on!"
Then strong men lift her from the snow,
And gently bear iter aged form
Within the cottage walla once more,
Wrapping her there in garments warm,
While soft white hands, with jewels decked,
Chafe lier's so cold and deathlike now.
Or hold rich cordials to her lips,
Or softly smooth Iter aged brow.
But never shall those sightless eyes
Again behold the morning light,
For He, the Lord of Paradise,
Who held them waking through the night,
Hath called ills faithful servant home;
Finished the task which He had given,
Her weary feet no more shall roam,
Her work is done—she rests in Heaven.
Greenville, 8. C.
Once, in St. Louis’ crowded streets
Where thousands were hurrying along,
Two little match boys pushed their way
And mingled with the throng.
| “ Matches? Buy these matches, sir? ”
“ They’re goodl Now, just you try! ”
And some would hurry on
Whilst others stopped to buy.
Now Charlie went to Sunday-school,
And once a mother had
Who taught her son to love the good,
And shun all that was bad.
But James his mother never knew,
His home was in the street,
His mates were bad, bis clothes all rags,
And oft he’d nothing to eat.
Charlie sometimes was fortunate,
And sold more matches than Jim,
Then Jimmie would abuse bis friend
Who always was kind to him.
To a ward in the city hospital
Litt'e Charlie was carried one night
By hands that tenderly laid him
On a bed all dean and white.
Soon afterwards Jim was brought in,
Ho, too, was found very ill,
And Charlie’s heart within him sank,
Jim looked so strango and still.
One night when the stars were twinkling,
And the moon was shining bright,
JimtohU friend said: “ What’s the matter?
My eyesight’s dim to-night—”
' O, Charlie! I feel so strangely,
Can it be I am going to die? ”
1 1 fear you are—Jim, pray to God,
For He is ever nigh.”
“ I don’t know how to pray, Charlie; ”
Then hold up your right hand—so;
I’m suro that the Savior will see it,
And He will accept you, I know.”
‘ I will, dear Charlie; don’t worry
About me any more to-night;
See! now my hand I am lifting,
And the Savior 1b just in sight.”
Yes, the Savior had come to take him,
For that night his spirit fled;
They found him with arm still lifted
At the dawr. of the morning—dead.
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the
and satin, like cousin's new dress, and thus:
I make a new mantle for Angeline ? You | He counted carefully,
will find the pieces and ever so many There were nine on each
bright ribbons, which you may have for s |de, so he went peace-
the trouble of going after them, in the f u iiy to rest again, quite
I closet in Cousin Carrie’s room.” I — J — - •
Poor little Bessie! I had tested her
I patience almost too far, and when she I imagining that four sol
came running back without any booty diers had gone for a walk in
I from this third exploring expedition she aB you may see if you count
was ready to cry. “ I don’t think it’s | hers in nlan ad ini nine
fair,” she sobbed; “I just believe you
know everything’s locked up 1”
Then I put down my work and took I There were now twenty-eight nien in
the dear little girl in my lap. “Never building. For the second time the S
mind,” I said, “ we will unlock them geant went his rounds, and found tl
all; Cousin Carrie only wanted to teach | roopi8 occupied as follows:
I you a lesson.’ You see, in this ‘great,
wide, wonderful, beautiful world ’ of
ours, my darling, everything is 1 locked
up ’ and you have to get the keys before
I you can enjoy all the fine things God
has stored away in it for your use and
pleasure, and that is the very object,
Bessie, of your going to school—just to
\get the keys to it all. Do you see?
| hers in the plan adjoining.
Not long afterwards the truants
turned, bringing with them four friend
“ Nine on each BideJ
he thought; “certain
I am a lucky fellow,
have such a truetwon
set of men under
And yet there were foi
more soldiers than thej
were at first, and eight more than
, . , . . he last went round. Truly, “ things
When you learn to read, you know, you , , . .. „ s
get the key to all the libraries of books a .. ., a ’ , , ,
B . v “ \.V\ , Soon after the Sergeant bad retii
written in the tnelmh language i when (onr more fre8h 9oldier8 came
you learn your Parle,. youe with your numbero( the ( i etachment
was increi
h rench teaeher, aud write your i ranch to thirlJr . tw0 . 0 „ce more the vigil;
theme, and trans ate rom your ' renc 1 g er g ean t we nt round. Once more
Header, you are grtuny tl* key to all the fonnd nine on each aid and
people and all the hooka of another na- t0 hi , r00m without euspecting mtachfc
tion. When you pore over your geogra- 1
, phy, and your atlas, you are laying hold . , , , , ,
of the key which can unlock to you all doubtful,whenthere were
1 | always nine on each side ?
By and by four more
men came in, and the
LOCKED VP.
A Story for Girin.
A little cousin of mine came to me
the strange countries and climes; your
writing lessons open your way to visit I
all your absent friends; and so with all 1
your studies; each is a key which you |
ought to be very glad to get hold of, be
cause it will let you into such beautiful I
and interesting places by and by—places
from which the unfortunate children who
cannot go to school must be entirely |
shut out.”
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number in the building
was raised to thirty-six.
The men were at first afraid that tl
would be found out, but after a Hi
while they managed to arrange to
seles so that the magic number
still be found on each side; ueitl
more nor less.
And so for the fourth time the
Bessie looked pretty sober, and did
about a year ago, with pouting lips and I not much » but * wlU tel1 y° u what I nt counte d and was satisfied,
a knot between her eyebrows almost as sbe dld ’ and we a ^ now ^ ia t ^ om 8 18
better than saying.
She went back to her school-books
big as a walnut. “ O, dear, Cousin Car
riel” she sighed, “there’s only one
week more of vacation. Then I’ve got] without grumbling, and studied as she
to go to school again. What’s the use had never studied before, and the other I
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a
Made bold by tb
success in puzzling tb
leader, the men a
that half should
the building oi
eighteen remaining
hind. While they *{
of old books, anyway?” What did 11 day when I said “Vacation’s over, Bes
say to her, do you think? Nothing at sie; here’s a letter from your mother,
all about her lessons. “ Are you fond which says we must send you home next 1 1 —' Ser „eant*’came round'for
of peaches and plums, Bessie?” I asked, week, so that you can begin your studies | ° Qf t{ma an(1 fnnn(1 the arram remen
You should have seen how | promptly,” she looked as bright as sun
shine, and said: “ Well, I believe I like
brows, and the pout out of the lipB, as I school-time just as well as vacation.
she replied by an energetic little nod of It’s nice to have fun, but it is a kind of ™ an w ‘ sb ^ ‘f™ ' vcr< J
fun, I think, to be learning something n * ne on eacb 8lde ’ an
Don’t y et there were six men
less than at first, and
last time and found the arrangemen
follows:
What more could
her curly head.
“ Well, grandma had a great basket I all the time.” I think so, too.
of beautiful fruit sent her last night, and | you?—Cleveland (Ohio) Record.
you may go into her room and take as
much of it as you like.”
Bessie bounded away, but soon re
turned rather soberly. “ Grandma’s
The Puzzled Sergeant.
Longfellow says in his “Psalm of
0
eighteen less than when
he last went round.
It is easy to explain how the Seri
was deceived. The corner rooms |
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Life,” “ things are not what they seem,” COUI1 ted on two sides of the hou
once. The more there are
door is locked,” she said, “ and 1 can’t I an a'certainly if a certain French’Ser
^“Isthat so?” I replied “Well we gCant Wer ® ac< l uainted with that well |rooms, the fewer there are in the?
will not 'try to unlock it, if. too mu” ,U ' t<! **"* WUh ' “ dthe feWer tliere *"'
trouble to get the key; but I know what
you will like to do. There’s a drawer
in the library, just below the shelves in
building, and the fewer
corner rooms, the more there are ml
He, poor man, had charge of twenty- house,
four soldiers. In the building which But what can the puzzled Serf
[all sorts of picture-books and papers;
you have never seen the wonderful con
I tents of that drawer.”
Bessie ran to me to give me what she
I called a “ bear-hug.” “ You’re so good
to me, Cousin Carrie,” she said, with a
rapturous kiss before she ran off; “ you
always have something new to show me
every day, and that is one reason why I
[ hate to have my visit here at grandpa’s
| stop, and school begin again.”
To tell you the truth, I felt a little
I guilty as I received and returned Bes-
An Irishman speaking of a relative aie’s kiss, for I knew very well what she
who was hanged, said that he died dur- soon came running back to tell me—that
ing a tight rope performance. the drawer in the book-case was locked.
• *• “Can’t I get tho key?” she asked ea
An extraordinary thing in ladies' bon- gerly.
nets—a cheap one, | •' No, dear,” I quietly replied; “ that
111 bllv IIUIMI J ) IUGV WVIV II HUV OUVI V VO III I I
the big book-case, where you will find | the y | ™. ? . ?. 0Ubtle8 f * ?! Xrt
rooms, so he arranged his men in the he would tell us not to use
following manner, taking care to keep Duties should be done thoroughly
the center room to himself, so that he not shuttled through,
could thus manage a sort of warlike!
“ puss in the corner
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And forasmuch us “things are
what they seem,” we should neu f J
By this disposition 0 f I by outward appearances only,
his men, the brave Ser- down below the surface «- 0
geant had nine stationed a 8°°d or bad opinion o
on each face of the build-1
ing, and so flattered him
self that it was well
guarded. By and by the |
soldiers grew tired, and not seeing any
signs of danger, they knocked at the I
door of the center room, and asked per
mission to alter the arrangement, so|
that tuey mighthave a little amusement.
The Sergeant gave consent, on condi
tion that there should be always nine | See Dr. w. a. cook’s card atw
C. G. Wilson, proprietor of
Poultry Yards at Milledgevilh’
us: “I have the finest lot o c
have ever raised and hope « ;1 ‘ ^
of the columns of the SoUTittK^
to do a lively business this i. >j
Attention ia called to tne a 1 y
Augusta Female 8emluary at
is justly popular. _
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