0?e NATIONAL CAPITAL CODEof ETIQUETTE COMBINED WITH SILAS X. FLOYD'S SHORT STORIES DEDICATEDUteCOLORED RACE ICIIIY !ARY *SITY OP ORNIA SILAS X. FLOYD, AUGUSTA, GA. Corresponding Secretary National Association of Teachers in Colored Schools. SILAS X. FLOYD'S SHORT STORIES for COLORED PEOPLE BOTH OLD AND YOUNG Entertaining Uplifting Interesting PROF. SILAS X. FLOYD, A. M., D. D., Author of "The Gospel of Serv'ce and other Sermons," "Life of Charles T. Walker, D. D.," "National Perils," etc. ILLUSTRATED Published by AUSTIN JENKINS CO., BOOK AND BIBLE PUBLISHERS WASHINGTON, D. C. AGENTS WANTED COPYRIGHTED 1905 BY HERTEL JENKINS & CO. COPYRIGHTED 1920 BY A. N. JENKINS CAUTION The entire contents of this book are protected by the stringent new copyright law, and all persons are warned not to attempt to reproduce the text, in whole or in part, or any of the specially posed illustrations PEEFACE. Truly the boys and girls of to-day ought to be thankful that they are alive. There never was such a golden age for childhood and youth as the present. To say nothing of the rich opportunities for mental and spiritual development, what a multitude of things have been provided for the innocent pleasure, the wholesome recreation of the young people of to-day; inventions that remind one of the magic of the "Arabian Nights"; tools of sport so perfect that one can- not imagine how they could be bettered; fascinat- ing games, all unknown in the days gone by; books and papers upon which science, .art and literary skill have lavished modern resources all these and many other wonderful things have fallen to the lot of the favored boys and girls of to-day. And now enterprising publishers of our grand country are going to put the boys and girls of America and especially the colored boys and girls of America under obligation to them, because they have decided to add to the list of good books for children and youths already on the market. I use the word "good" advisedly; for from the day that I was engaged to write this book I have had in mind constantly the thought of making it such a book as would 5 6 PREFACE. tell for good. It is an old saying that ''evil com- munications corrupt good manners, " but evil reading does more than this: for evil reading- corrupts good morals. I have endeavored to put into this book of stories for children only such things as might be freely admitted into the best homes of the land, and I have written with the hope that many young minds may be elevated by means of these stories and many hearts filled with high and holy aspirations. Our nation has a right to expect that our boys and girls shall turn out to be good men and good women, and this book is meant to help in this processc SILAS X. FLOYD. PUBLISHER'S NOTE. The publishers of this book have spared neither pains nor expense in trying to make it as nearly perfect as a book of this kind can be. The typo- graphical appearance and the illustrations will speak for themselves. We consider ourselves fortunate in having been able to secure the services of the Rev, Dr. Silas X. Floyd as the author of this volume. Mr. Floyd's life work, aside from his literary training, has made him the ideal man to speak to the colored boys and girls of the South. Soon after graduating from Atlanta University in 1891, Mr. Floyd became Principal of a Public School at Augusta, Ga., and remained in that city for five years consecutively as a teacher. In June, 1896, he was called from the school-room into the Sun- day-school work, having been appointed by the International Sunday School Convention as one of its Field Workers throughout the South. He continued in this work for three years, retiring from it to become Pastor of Tabernacle Baptist Church, Augusta, Ga., one of the largest churches in the South. After a year and a half in the pas- torate, he returned to the Sunday-school work, becoming Sunday-school Missionary for Georgia and Alabama under appointment of the American Baptist Publication Society. 8 PUBLISHER'S NOTE. Mr. Floyd 's work, as the record shows, has been conspicuously for and in behalf of the chil- dren, and he is known far and wide as a compe- tent writer and speaker on topics concerning young people. He has contributed to the Sunday School Times, the International Evangel, the New York Independent, The World's Work, Lippin- cott's Magazine, and many other journals and periodicals. He is the author of a volume of ser- mons published by the American Baptist Publi-* cation Society, and listed in their catalogue as among their standard works, and is also the author of the Life of the leading colored Baptist preacher in America, published by the National Baptist Publishing Board. From the beginning of the Voice of the Negro, Mr. Floyd has had charge of the Wayside Department as Editor, and his work a"s a humorist and writer of negro dialect is known to many through that medium. In 1894, Atlanta University, his alma mater, conferred upon Mr. Floyd the degree of Master of Arts, and in 1902, Morris Brown College con- ferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Divniity. CONTENTS PAGE THE COWARDLY HERO 17 A SPELLING LESSON 22 THE TRUTH ABOUT LUCK 31 AN EVENING AT HOME 35 THE MAKING OF A MAN. 38 FALSE PRIDE 42 THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE 46 THE LOUD GIRL 55 THE ROWDY BOY 60 HONESTY 62 UNCLE NED AND THE INSURANCE SOLICITOR 65 THE STRENUOUS LIFE 70 A HUMBUG 73 How TO BE HANDSOME 76 PATIENCE 78 GOING WITH THE CROWD 81 MARY AND HER DOLLS 85 JAKY TOLBERT'S PLAYMATES 88 A VALENTINE PARTY 92 No MONEY DOWN 95 TOMMY'S BABY BROTHER 99 KEEPING SCHOOL 102 9 10 CONTENTS PAGE ^HB SCHOOL OF THE STREET 105 THE Fox HUNT 109 A BOLD VENTURE 114 THE ROAD TO SUCCESS 117 KEEPING ONES ENGAGEMENTS 120 A MIDNIGHT MISHAP 122 FREDERICK DOUGLASS 124 OUR DUMB ANIMALS 127 A PLUCKY BOY 129 A HEART TO HEART TALK 132 A GHOST STORY 135 GOOD CHEER 141 LIFE A BATTLE 144 HUNTING AN EASY PLACE 149 THE BIG BLACK BURGLAR 153 PIN MONEY MADE WITH THE NEEDLE 156 SELF-HELP 160 AIMING AT SOMETHING 165 THE BLACK SHEEP OF THE REYNOLDS FAMILY 167 THE HOLY BIBLE , 175 ANDREW CARNEGIE'S ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN 178 DIRECTIONS FOR LITTLE GENTLEMEN 179 THE RIGHT TO PLAY 181 A CHRISTMAS PRESENT 183 CONTENTS. 11 PAGE THE NICKEL THAT BURNED IN FRANK'S POCKET. . . . 185 MONUMENT TO A BLACK MAN 188 THE BAD BOY WHO HE Is 190 THE BAD BOY How TO HELP HIM 193 THOMAS GREENE BETHUNE ("BLIND TOM") 197 NOT FIT TO KNOW 200 THE RIGHT WAY 202 KEEPING FRIENDSHIP IN REPAIR 205 LITTLE ANNIE'S CHRISTMAS. 208 THE VELOCIPEDE RACE. 211 FAULT-FINDING 213 RANDOM REMARKS 216 BENJAMIN BANNEKER, THE NEGRO ASTRONOMER. . . . 220 "A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM" 224 DIRECTIONS FOR LITTLE LADIES 230 THREE WORDS TO YOUNG PEOPLE 232 "A LAMP UNTO MY FEET". , 238 THE THREE BRIGADES , '..... 241 "HOME, SWEET HOME" 243 EACH ONE OP Us OP IMPORTANCE 247 THE POETRY OP LIFE 248 ON BEING IN EARNEST 250 YOUNG PEOPLE AND LIFE INSURANCE 252 THE LITTLE SAILOR CAT. . ..... . 255 12 CONTENTS. PAGE ADVICE TO LITTLE CHRISTIANS 257 A WORD TO PARENTS 259 THE UNSEEN CHARMER 262 OUR COUNTRY 265 THE "DON'T-CARE" GIRL 267 FREDERICK DOUGLASS TO YOUNG PEOPLE 270 A GOOD FELLOW 274 THE FUTURE OF THE NEGRO r . . 275 THE TRAINING OF CHILDREN o ..... . 277 & 1! S CM 0} o 5 03 bo g , -M fc, M $ g do ; Si o SS s S a * 5o 9 w>.s H 02 l! "GREAT HEAVENS, THE BRUTE is MAD," GASPED EVANS. THE COWARDLY HERO. George Washington Jones was his name. Where he got it nobody knew, least of all him- self. For two years he had sold newspapers one block from the big St. Charles Hotel in New Orleans. Very slender, with great big hungry eyes, this little colored waif presented a pitiful sight to the crowds that hurried by. He was scorned by the other newsboys, who yelled and j erred at him, causing him to shrink up even smaller and to glance fearfully at his tormentors, for George was what the other boys called a coward. He would not fight, when attacked and imposed upon by his more sturdy associates he would throw up his hands and cower down against the ground like a whipped dog. All boys know what this means, for months he was the mark for all of the coarse jokes and abuse of the rather rough lot of boys who were also engaged in the newspaper selling business thereabouts. He had lived ever since he remembered with an old colored man in a wretched attic over on the South Side, the old man was a rag peddler and permitted him to share his miserable quarters for the payment of fifty cents every Saturday night. Poor food and poorer sleeping quarters had their effect, and George soon developed a hacking cough that made people turn their heads to see who it was 17 18 THE COWARDLY HEKO and then hurry on faster than ever. One cold morning in December, while George stood shiv- ering on his corner, scarcely able to shout loud enough to attract the attention of the passers by, a lady about to enter an automobile glanced at him, noted pityingly his emaciated and half- starved appearance, and the cough that wracked his slight frame, she stepped up and asked him his name and address, which he gave, gazing in spell-bound admiration at this beautiful, fairy-like creature from a different world. It so happened that this young lady's father was a very influential man, and so in course of time the lady who had in the meantime called several times at George's wretched quarters, with eggs and milk and other dainties, prevailed upon him to arrange for George to spend the spring and summer in the country. So one bright day in April, George arrived at a big Louisiana plantation where he was to have good food and clothes, and when able, to do odd jobs and chores about the place to pay for his board. The Grahams were a couple who had been married seven or eight years and who had a little daughter of six who was a dainty and pretty little miss, somewhat spoiled, but naturally kind and good-hearted. To George she was the most beau- tiful thing he had ever seen, an angel, not to be thought of at the same time with earthly things. He soon became her devoted slave, following her THE COWARDLY HERO. 19 about and trying to think of something he could do that would make her happy. Now George did not change in the first few weeks of his stay with the Grahams. He was afraid of the cows, of the horses, even of the geese that ran around the yard. Little Louise, who had been raised in the country, could not understand this feeling and did not hesitate to let George know that she had nothing but con- tempt for his running wildly away from an in- offensive cow who happened to turn her head in his direction. "But, dearest," her mother said, "he has never even seen a cow before. To him that cow is only an awfully dangerous thing with horns, a long tail and big mouth. ' ' "Oh, but mamma, he is such an awful fraid cat, whoever heard of getting scared at a lot of silly geese?" , "Yes, I fear he is a hopeless coward," said Mrs. Graham, "but he certainly does work well." But the one thing that George feared above all other things was the dog that lived on the Evans place next door. There was considerable excuse for this fear, as the dog was a surly and some- what dangerous brute, an immense Great Dane, who had no love nor respect for any living" thing except his master. He seemed to take a savage delight in dashing to the fence and making stren- uous efforts to jump over and attack poor George whenever he had to pass by. On such occasions, 20 THE COWARDLY HERO. George would shriek and dash wildly up the road, screaming in terror, he feared the Great Dane more than anything else on earth. The days and weeks slipped by until the month of August. There had been a long dry spell; everything was hot, parched and burning up, and it seemed as if the earth was crying out for rain. Every one was cross and irritable and although not meaning to be unreasonable, Mr. and Mrs. Gra- ham took considerable of their irritation out on our little colored friend George, he was ordered about and shouted at to move faster and scolded and generally made the target for the ill humor of the entire household. For some days the Great Dane had been acting strangely, no one dared to approach him, and on one occasion he even snapped at his master. " Guess I'll chain him up until the rain sets in," said Mr. Evans. However, the dog refused to be tied, avoiding his master and snapping whenever he approached. Suddenly he gave a roar and sprang right at Mr. Evans ' throat, the man tripped and fell, which was the best thing he could possibly have done under the circumstances, as the dog ignored him, and, snapping right and left, dashed out of the gate and down the road towards the Graham place. " Great Heavens! The brute is mad!" gasped Evans. If any one has seen a dog go mad, he will testify that it is not a pretty sight. The maddened ani- THE COWARDLY HERO. 21 mal raced at top speed along the road,- snapping wildly at sticks and stones along the way, with froth and foam flying from his mouth, his mam- moth jaws closing and unclosing like the teeth of an enormous trap. Straight down the road and straight through the gate that opened into the Graham yard dashed the enormous Great Dane he was a hideous sight to the bravest; what he looked like to George no one will ever know. Graham, sitting on the porch, realized in an instant what had happened, and sprang to the dining-room to get his rifle, right in the path was little Louise, with her dolls, sitting around a little table, in the midst of a party she rose to her feet, the great frenzied brute but a few yards distant, her face paling, her lips unable to utter a sound. Graham wa quick, but not quick enough, the dog would be upon the child before he could possibly get ready to shoot, but quicker than Graham, quicker than the dog, was George, what he felt, what he suffered in those few seconds, the Lord alone can tell with a wild scream, he threw himself right in the path of the maddened Great Dane, right at his throat, shriek- ing and striking wildly with both clenched fists at the huge head and body of the dog. With a snarl, the dog turned and caught the negro boy, but it was here that Providence took a hand, for he grabbed not George himself, but his coat, worn and shabby from much use, and the coat came off in his jaws, before the dog could turn and renew 22 THE COWARDLY HERO. the attack, Mr. Graham shot twice rapidly from the porch and the dog fell, writhing terribly in his death agonies. White as a sheet, Graham ran quickly down the path and snatched Louise up in his arms, but Mrs. Graham, who had been an agonized eye- witness of the near-tragedy, was almost as quick to reach George throwing her arms around him, she sobbed, ' ' God bless you, George ; that was the bravest thing I ever saw." And in this way, George, the despised and ig- nored newsboy, who had always been called a coward, came into his own. Such is true courage. Poor boy, he was afraid, fearfully, awfully afraid ! But he did not hesitate to risk everything to save the golden-haired little daughter of his employer. George still remains on the Graham plantation, but you would scarcely know him he coughs no longer; he stands erect and is becoming strong and sturdy; he has found himself, and no one will ever again have cause to say to him, "You coward !" THE GEEAT SPELLING MATCH. There was no doubt about it, of all the little colored boys and girls who went to the Peabody school, Margaret was the dullest. Her teacher said so, her friends said so, her parents were of the same opinion, and if asked herself, Margaret 24 THE GREAT SPELLING MATCH. would undoubtedly have frankly acknowledged that her undisputed and proper place was at the foot of the class. Her brother Charles, who was one year younger than she, had proudly grad- uated from the fifth grade and was making rapid progress in the sixth. He did not spend one-half the time studying that Margaret did, and yet when it came time for recitations, he would stand up and recite in a manner that warmed his teacher's heart and made him the envy of most all of his schoolmates. If Margaret was backward in her studies, little Mable Green certainly was not. Arithmetic, geog- raphy, writing, reading, she excelled in all of them. She was a very bright little colored girl and a very good looking one, too. Mable knew this just as well as all of the boys and girls did, she was not exactly foolish and vain, but she had been so praised and petted by her school friends and teachers that she was inclined to be a little con- ceited, what we all would call " stuck up." Once a month a prize was given for the scholar who stood highest in certain studies, and Mable had twice been the successful pupil, she had two highly prized silver medals to show for her skill. Now one of the members of the school board was a farmer about forty years of age, kind- hearted, but a little old-fashioned. He believed in boys and girls knowing how to read and write and spell correctly, but he did not care for what he called the "new-f angled " ideas of some of the THE GREAT SPELLING MATCH. 25 * other members of the board. He was very much opposed to a course in music and elocution that was being considered by the school board, and did not hesitate to let every one know how he felt about it. Now he knew Mable and liked her he was very much interested in the way in which she stood at the head of her classes and wanted to do something to encourage her in sticking to the old-fashioned forms of education. He thought over this for a long time, and finally decided to hold a spelling match. Now you all probably know what a spelling match is. Two sides are chosen who stand up on opposite sides of the room, and the teacher give out words, commencing at the head of the row, any one who misses a word has to sit down, and the last one to stand up wins the prize for his side, also is pronounced the best speller and gets the personal prize. -The board all thought this a fine scheme, and so it was decided to hold the spelling match on Thanksgiving evening at the schoolhouse. The teacher was to pronounce the words, while the members of the board were to give her lists of words from which to choose. "What are you going to give for a prize, Mr. Edwards?" asked the teacher. "Well, I thought I would give twenty dollars, " replied the man. "Yes, I rather plan to give a bright twenty-dollar gold piece. " The news spread like wild fire. Never had there been such excitement. This was a small fortune, 26 THE GREAT SPELLING MATCH. and Mable 's mother pinned a bright red bow in her hair, and put on her prettiest frock, Mable had already considered the prize as won, in fact, she had planned just how she would spend it, she was a good speller and felt confident that she could win. The night arrived, bright and crisp November weather, with a bright moon overhead, the little schoolhouse was packed. It was decided that alj children in the fifth, sixth and seventh grades would be allowed to compete. Now, Margaret had been in a highly excited state ever since hearing of the contest strange to say, she was a good speller. It has often been said, and quite cor- rectly, too, that spelling is a gift, that some peo- ple spell correctly quite naturally, while no amount of study or practice can make a good speller out of any one who was born with a head that ached and throbbed at the mere thought of spelling. She had never had fifty cents of her own in her whole life twenty dollars in gold it did not seem possible that there could be that much money in the whole world. Sides were chosen and Margaret was almost hidden by fat Eeggie Andrews, who stood next to her. Mable was right across the room from her, and smiled in a somewhat scornful manner at the girl she thought was a " dummy. " The teacher began to pronounce the words and you could have almost heard a pin drop ; the first few times around but few scholars dropped out, THE GREAT SPELLING MATCH. 27 Reggie going down the third time on "mucilage." Margaret gave a sigh of relief Reggie had made her very nervous. Nothing happened that amounted to much until the teacher began to give out words containing "ie" and "ei." Now these words are very diffi- cult unless a speller knows the rule "ie" is al- most always used except after the letter "c," following this letter "c," it is always "ei." Mar- garet had learned this rule in the second grade, and these words had no terror for her she was gaining confidence now and the audience began to sit up and take notice. Soon but five were left standing, three on Margaret's side and only Mable and one little colored boy on the other. It seemed for a time that these five would have to divide the prize, word after word was spelled and no one missed the audience was hanging spellbound on every syllable, and the dignified members of the board were trying to act naturally, although in reality, greatly wrought up. "Exhaustible," suddenly said the teacher. There was a moment's hesitation, and then Ann Houston, on Margaret's side glibly said: "E-x-a-u-s-t-i-b-1-e." "Wrong; be seated," and with much sniffling and rubbing her eyes, Ann walked sorrowfully to her seat. The boy on Mable 's side shuffled his feet, looked up, down and around the room, and finally blurted put: 28 THE GREAT SPELLING MATCH. "E-x-h-a-u-s-t-a-b-1-e." "Wrong!" and Bobbie joined Ann in sorrowful silence. Eose Holcomb, the one remaining girl on Mar- garet's side, had become rattled she rolled her eyes wildly up and down and then guessed, she made a very bad guess. "E-c-h-o-s-t-i-b-l-e!" and Eose was also counted out and took her seat, tossing her head and looking indifferently around. It was now Mable 's turn, and she had sufficient intelligence to have profited by the experience of Ann and Bobbie had the word been pronounced to her first, she would probably have misspelled it, but now she spelled it out firmly and confident- ly, letter for letter, without a hitch. Now Mable faced Margaret for the final test both were greatly excited, but their nervousness had passed it was now that Margaret's natural ability came to her aid. Word after word she spelled, and the crowd watched her in amazement. Here was the supposedly dull and backward pupil, the recognized "foot of the class, " standing up gallantly to the last against Mable, the favorite, to whom everybody had conceded the prize as al- ready won. The largest cities in America, in South America and Europe, proper names, animals, the words became more and more difficult. Finally, the names of flowers were given Mable had studied botany and was familiar with flowers Margaret THE GREAT SPELLING MATCH. 29 was now relying on her natural ability and nerve all things come to an end, and at last the teacher pronounced the name of the flower "F-U-C-H-S-I-A." Now it is a fact that there is probably no more tricky word in the English language than this it all depends upon where to place the letter "s." Mable knew what fuchsias were, knew all about the different parts, the petals, the stem, she had spelled the word correctly many times, but, alas, she was a trifle hasty and exclaimed : "F-U-S-C-H-I-A." " Wrong !" Mable burst into tears, and with loud sobs ran to her*seat and threw herself down, her face buried in her arms. All eyes were now on Margaret. She was strongly tempted to spell this commencing "ph" it seemed correct, but something told her that Mable had been almost right. Almost, but not quite ! Mable 's dramatic finish had given her time to think for a moment, and when the word was once more pronounced she was ready without hesitation she spelled slowly and distinctly : "F-U-C-H-S-I-A." "Correct, Margaret, you have won the prize. " Margaret's knees almost gave way under her surely she must be dreaming it could not possi- bly be herself to whom the committeeman was advancing with a light blue plush case every one was clapping their hands, and the boys had so forgotten themselves as to whistle through their fingers and noisily stamp their feet. MABGABET, You HAVE WON THE PBIZE." THE TRUTH ABOUT LUCK. 31 "It gives me great pleasure, " said Mr. Ed- wards, "to give this twenty-dollar gold piece to Margaret Hawkins, and to pronounce her the best speller in the school. " Poor Mable cried herself to sleep that night, but it was a good lesson for her it taught her to be more considerate of others, and that there were something at which she could be beaten. Every one treated Margaret with increased re- spect, and her success was also good for her- she began to improve in her other studies, and as she gained in confidence, gradually became, if not one of the best, at least a very good scholar. Mr. Edwards says his next prize will be given for the best all-around pupil at the close of the term and Mable is once more looking forward with hope. THE TEUTH ABOUT LUCK. How often we hear some one say: "My, but he's lucky !" or. "It's better to be born lucky than rich." Boys and girls are too often in the habit of thinking that one of their schoolmates are " lucky " because they always stand well in their classes and frequently have spending money in their pockets. It is not likely that "luck" had anything to do with it. They probably stood well and were at 32 THE TRUTH ABOUT LUCK. the head of the class in school because they studied and tried harder than the other scholars, and had money to spend because they spent their time out of school hours in working to earn it instead of at play. Some years ago I happened to find myself near the terminal of the great East Eiver Bridge in New York City. Two little boys were standing near one of the large iron posts crying their afternoon papers. I tarried near them because I was waiting for a particular car. One little fellow said to the other, "How many papers have you sold today, Tommie?" " Nearly one hundred an' fifty, " was Tommie's quick reply. 'Honor bright?" 1 ' Yes ; honor bright. ' ' "Whoopee ! but ain't you in big luck, Tommie?" "Luck!" exclaimed Tommie, wiping the per- spiration from his brow. "There ain't no luck about it; I've just been everlastingly at it since four o'clock this morning that's all!" And that is the all of real success. Those who achieve success are "everlastingly at" what they are trying to do. Tommie was right in declining to have his hard and honest work cheapened by calling the result of it luck. "You are the luckiest chap I ever saw," I once heard a little boy about sixteen years say to an- other boy of about the same age. "How MANY PAPERS HAVE You SOLD TODAY, TOMMY?' 34 THE TRUTH ABOUT LUCK. "Why do you say that!" asked the other. "Because you have had your salary raised twice in the same year." "Well," was the reply, "you may call it luck; but I don't. I have always done my work the very hest I knew how. I have never once in the whole year been a single minute late in getting to the office, nor have I ever left a single minute before it was time for me to leave. When I have worked over-time, I have not made any fuss about it. My boss said when he raised my salary last week that he had taken these things into account. So, I don't see where the luck comes in." "All the same," said the first boy, "some bosses wouldn't have raised your salary." "Then I would have the satisfaction of know- ing that I had done my duty." Boys, I tell you that's right. Nine out of ten employers know that it is to their advantage to show appreciation of faithful work and they show it. When this appreciation comes luck has had nothing to do with it. The thing that passes for luck is in nearly all cases the just reward of honest endeavor. Do not, therefore, start out in life with the expectation that some "lucky turn" will bring you sudden honor or wealth or position without any effort on your part. Substitute that fine old word "work" for that deceitful word "luck," and base your hopes of future success and use- fulness upon the honorable labor that it is a God- THE TRUTH ABOUT LUCK. 35 given privilege for every well and strong and right-minded boy to give his heart and hands to performing. AN EVENING AT HOME. Boys and girls between the ages of eleven and seventeen ought to spend their evenings at home, as much as possible. In these busy, bustling twen- tieth century days, there are many families so much the worse for them that scarcely know what it is to spend an evening at home together,, Not only the young people but the older people are "on the go/' The evenings are crowded with calls and invitations, which come from far and near. It is nothing to go five or even ten miles to an evening concert or social gathering, the trolley is so near, so cheap and so univer- sal. But I tell you, boys and girls, no matter what the pleasure or amusement afforded no matter what the instruction or culture received there are no social or similar opportunities good enough to displace the home circle. The sooner young people realize this the happier they will be. Boys and girls ought to plan for some evenings at home. Let other things have a share, but do not give up all the time to other things. Once a week the young people ought to arrange for an evening at home. Decline everything else for 36 AN EVENING AT HOME. that evening, the same as you would for any other engagement. Gather the family together. Make a special place "for grandma and grandpa. Sing merry songs; play innocent and amusing AN EVENING AT HOME. games; take time to tell the home folks about some of the things that you do and that you have seen in the world; get acquainted with the home folks; be delighted in their delight; by special AN EVENING AT HOME. 37 appointment, spend one or two cheerful hours with the folks at home each week. The young folks themselves should take the lead in this matter. A home is not merely a place with four walls where people meet to eat and drink and sleep securely beneath a roof. Nay, boys and girls, a house is reared to be a home the center where a family may gather into one; to be a serene retreat where the tender- est affections may find rest ; where love may have a dwelling place, and the amenities of life gain ample scope; where parents and children may press one another heart to heart; where sor- rows and joys may be freely shared in sacred confidence; in a word, where the great work of training human beings for the duties of the pres- ent life, and the perfection of another, may be begun and carried on. There is one special reason for making much of the evenings at home that young people are not likely to think of. Inevitably the family cir- cle will be broken up very soon. Perhaps not by death, but most certainly by change. When Fred goes to college that is the beginning of new ties and new associations, and the home privileges can never be quite so complete to him again. The years of the complete unity of the home are very few indeed. While these years are pass- ing, young people especially should make the most of them. My dear boys and girls, get the benefit of these years; get their joys; store up 38 AN EVENING AT HOME. memories of home life, for they will be in future years the most beautiful pictures of the heart. However some may sneer at it, the memory of home and mother is a great power for righteous- ness. It has saved many a person to God and native land and race. "Be it ever so humble There's no place like home." THE MAKING OF A MAN.* Mr. Stamps, seated near the table, was glanc- ing over the afternoon paper. Mrs. Stamps, in an easy chair, was doing some fancy work. Little Bobby, six years old, more or less, was playing with his toys on the floor. All at once the pre- cocious little boy stopped short in the middle of his sport and, looking up at his mother, asked, "Mama, who made the world?" "God," replied Mrs. Stamps, sweetly. "Who made the sea?" continued Bobby. Mrs. Stamps answered, "God." "Well," said Bobby, "did God make every- thing?" "Yes, my son; the Lord made everything." "And did he make everybody?" *Published in the Voice of the Negro. THE MAKING OF A MAN. 39 "Yes; the Lord made everybody.' 7 Bobby was silent for a moment. Presently he looked anxiously at his father, and then, turning to his mother, he asked, "Mama, did God make papa, too?" "Yes; God made papa also." After a lengthy pause Bobby asked, BOBBY AND His "MAN." "Mama, do you think that I could make a man, if I was to try real hard?" "You had better run out to play now, Bobby," said Mrs. Stamps, somewhat non-plused by her son's curiosity. Bobby left the room almost immediately. He went straight to the beach in front of the house, and labored long and earnestly in piling up some wet sand. Pretty soon he was joined in his work 40 THE MAKING OF A MAN. by two other little boys. For some time the three little fellows worked vigorously in piling up the mud. Mrs. Stamps called her husband to the window, so that he might see what the boys were doing. "Wife," said Mr. Stamps, "I believe those little Satans are trying to make a man. ' ' Toward sunset Bobby ran into the house and exclaimed with delight, ' ' Mama, weVe got our man almost finished. We didn't have but one marble, and we used that for one of his eyes. I came in to ask you to give me a marble, so that we might put in his other eye." ' ' It's too late to bother now, Bobby/' said Mrs. Stamps. "Wait until to-morrow morning; then I will give you a marble and let you finish your man." . The next morning, bright and early, Bobby went out to look for his man. Lo and behold! the sea had washed the man away during the night. But, Bobby, of course, did not suspect that. He thought that the man had gone away of his own accord. So the little fellow spent the entire morning look- ing for his man. He looked under the house; he looked in the stable; he went up to the garret; he wallied up and down the beach; he went into the woods looking for his man. But his man was nowhere to be found. Two or three weeks later an African Methodist Episcopal Conference assembled in Bobby's town. THE MAKING OF A MAN. 41 Among the ministers present there happened to be a short, chubby, tan-colored brother with only one eye. When Bobby spied him he examined the man curiously and cautiously from head to foot. The examination ended, Bobby concluded that that was his man. At once the little fellow left his mother and went over and took a seat beside the man. Bobby's mother was somewhat em- barrassed. The man was evidently pleased, al- though, to be sure, he himself was not quite cer- tain why he should be an object of special interest to the little boy. The man went to the secretary's table to have his name enrolled Bobby went with him. He went into the vestibule to get a drink of water and Bobby followed him there. But all the while the man was still in doubt as to the cause of the little boy's apparent affection. By this time, thoroughly exasperated, Bobby's mother decided to go home. She approached the pew in a very ladylike manner and said, " Bobby, dear, come; we must be going home now. ' ' "All right, Mama," said Bobby in dead ear- nest, "but you will please let me take my man home with me won't you! I just found him to-day, and you know I've been looking for him for over two weeks!" Then, for the first time, it suddenly dawned upon Mrs. Stamps what was the matter with Bobby. In spite of herself she laughed heartily at the boy's perversity. Finding that his mother 42 THE MAKING OF A MAN. hesitated to reply, Bobby turned to the man and said, "Come on: we're going home now. Why did you leave before 'I finished you?" FALSE PEIDE. Once upon a time the head clerk in a carpet store requested one of his junior clerks to go to a patron's home to measure a room, and suggested that he take along a five-yard sample. The junior clerk objected to "carting" such a big bundle, as he said, "all over town," and asked that one of the boys be sent with it. The proprietor of the establishment, wjio happened to overhear the re- mark, privately told the head-clerk to inform the proud young fellow that a boy would be sent on after him with the roll. Shortly after the young man reached the house, the proprietor of the estab- lishment covered him with confusion by appearing at the house in person with the roll of carpet under his arm. Handing the bundle to the bewildered young man, the proprietor remarked : "Here is the carpet, young man. I hope I have not kept you waiting for it. If you have any other orders, I'll take them now." ***** A young woman of my acquaintance refused to carry home a yeast cake, though it was needed at "HEBE Is CARPET, YOUNG MAN. I HOPE I HAVE NOT KEPT YOTJ WAITING," 44 FALSE PRIDE. once for the family baking anc^ she was bound directly homeward. She said that she wasn't a delivery wagon, and so the yeast cake had to be sent to her home. A great many foolish young people are so ab- sorbingly regardful of their trim appearance on the street that they will never under any circum- stances carry a basket or bundle, however much inconvenience they may cause others by refusing to do so. ***** Now, it is not proper pride or self-respect which prompts people to act as the young folks acted whom I have -just referred to. It is silliness which prompts them to act so. Any honest work is hon- orable that is honorably done, and you will notice that young people of good social position and strength of character are above such pettiness. Only inferior people act that way. Superior peo- ple do not act so, because they are well aware that they cannot be compromised by doing straightfor- wardly, without fuss or apology, whatever needs to be done. Yet, I admit, that it seems to be human nature that whatever is distasteful or sup- posedly menial should be done by somebody else. When young people, or old people for that matter, are tempted to be foolish in such things they should remember the lesson of humility that Christ taught his disciples, when in that warm Oriental country, where only sandals are worn, He per- formed the necessary service of washing the dis- FALSE PRIDE. 45 ciples' feet. For us to be above our business for us to think ourselves too good or too dainty to soil our hands with honest toil for us to feel that it is a lowering of our dignity to carry a bun- dle through the street, is to prove by our conduct that we are not up to the level of our business, that we are possessed of a great amount of false pride, and, in a higher sense, it shows that we have a fool- ish and wicked distaste of true service. There is nothing low, nothing degrading, nothing disgrace- ful, in honest labor, in honest work of any kind, whether it be to boil an egg properly, to sweep a floor well, to carry a bundle or package through the streets, or bring a pail of water. In fact, if somebody were to say that " chores " done or un- done are the making or the unmaking of boys and girls, it would be a homely way of putting an im- portant truth. Bringing up coal or bringing in wood, weeding the garden bed, running errands, washing dishes, sewing seams, dusting furniture, doing any odd jobs where there is need, cheer- fully, faithfully these lead to the highway of greater opportunities and are the usual avenues to the only manhood and womanhood that is worth having. My young friends, the castle of your noblest dream is built out of what lies nearest at hand. It is the uncommonly good use of common things, the everyday opportunities, that makes honored lives, and helps us, and helps us to help others, along the sunroad. "He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much." 46 FALSE PKIDE. u Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. ' ' THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE. The people of the Piney Grove settlement, both white and black, had been free for nearly a gen- eration. The whites had been freed from the curse of being slave-holders, and the blacks had been freed from the curse of being held in bondage. But never in the history of this little town, in the very heart of the so-called " Black Belt" of Georgia, had the people known anything about the proper observance of Thanksgiving Day until 189. And in that year the revolution was brought about by a young colored woman named Grace Wilkins. Grace Wilkins was the only daughter of Solo- mon and Amanda Wilkins. Solomon and his wife were farmers plain, simple, ordinary country folk. Amanda was literally her husband's help- meet. She went along with him every morning to the field, and, in season, chopped as much wood, picked as much cotton, hoed as much corn, pulled as much fodder, and plowed as much as her hus- band did. Up to her fourteenth year Grace had been reared on a farm, and had learned to do all the things that any farmer's child has to do such THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE. 47 as milking cows, feeding hogs and chickens, hoe- ing cotton and corn, picking cotton, pulling fodder and the like. In her fourteenth year, acting upon the advice of an uneducated colored preacher, her parents sent Grace away from home to attend one GRACE BEFOBE GOING TO SCHOOL. of the great normal and industrial institutes for the training of the black boys and girls of the South. At first her mother and father were filled with forebodings. It was the first time that they had ever allowed their daughter to be away from them, 48 THANKSGIVING AT PlNEY GttOVE. and they missed her so much and longed for her so constantly that they thought that they had made a mistake in sending her off to "boardin' school." Ignorant and superstitious neighbors, though they knew as little about such matters as did Solomon and Amanda, were loud in saying that "Sol" and "Mandy" would live to regret the step they had taken in sending Grace away from home. The only rays of sunshine that came in to brighten these periods of mental unrest and gloom on the part of Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins were found in the letters which they received regularly from their daughter. Grace invariably informed her parents, whenever she wrote, that she was "well an' doin' well." Thus reassured from time to time, Solomon and Amanda managed somehow to undergo the terrible strain of having their daugh- ter absent from them for eight months. But mean- ^ime they were firmly of the opinion that, once they got their hands on her again, they would never allow Grace to return to school. With glad and thankful hearts Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins joyously embraced their daughter when she came home at the close of her first year in school. With keen and genuine interest, they lis- tened to her wonderful accounts of the great school and of the great man at the head of it. Grace dressed differently and talked differently; and her mother said, speaking one day in confidence to her husband shortly after Grace's return, "Dat gal's sho got a new walk on her!" THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE. 49 Grace Wilkins brought back a toothbrush with her from school. That was something which she had never had before. She used that toothbrush every morning and night. That was something that she had never done before. She was now care- ful to keep her hair well combed every day. That was something that she had been accustomed to do on Sundays only or on special occasions. She washed her face two or three times a day now, as her mother and father noticed. Before she went to school she had been in the habit of giving her face, as the old people say, ' i a lick and a promise ' ' early each morning. Besides, Grace kept the house cleaner than she had kept it before. She brought home with her a brand new Bible which she read regularly at home and always carried to church and Sunday school. She also had a song book called "Jubilee Songs and Plantation Melodies," and it gladdened the hearts of the good ' ' old folks at home ' ' to hear their daughter sing from a book some of the very songs that they had sung all their lifetime and which were so dear to them. All these things and others made a deep and abiding impression upon Solomon and his wife. And finding that withal their daughter was just as loving and kind as she had been before, and that she was just as industrious and faithful as form- erly, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins were not long in de- ciding that their daughter should go back to that school another year, and that they would work hard and stint themselves in order that they might 50 THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE. . keep her there until she had finished the normal course. So back to school Grace Wilkins went that year, and the next year, and the next. It was the proudest day in Solomon's and Amanda's lives when they sat in the magnificent chapel of the school and heard their daughter read her gradua- tion essay on ' l Tlie Gospel of Service. ' ' Glad tears welled up in their eyes when they heard the prin- cipal call their daughter's name, and then saw Grace step up to receive her certificate of gradua- tion. Coming back to Piney Grove to live, "Miss Gracie" everybody called her that after gradua- tionestablished a little school which she called "The Piney Grove Academy." It was the first public school for colored children ever opened within 'the corporate limits of the little village. Before that the schools were district schools or county schools, which were taught about in dif- ferent places for only three or four months in the year, mainly during the summer. Miss Gracie be- gan her school the first day of October. By special arrangement she used the first three months for the public term allowed by the state, and supple- mented that with a five-months term, for which the pupils were required to pay fifty cents each per month. The plan worked well, the parents joining in heartily in the movement, and the Piney Grove Academy soon became the model school for the surrounding counties. THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE. 51 GRACE'S GRADUATION. Among other things Miss Gracie had learned at school what was the import of our national Thanksgiving Day. At the opening of the second 52 THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE. year of the Piney Grove Academy she decided that she would inaugurate an annual Thanksgiving service. Accordingly on the opening day of the second year Miss Gracie informed the pupils of her plan, and told them that she would begin the very next day to prepare a suitable program for the exercises. Afterwards Miss Gracie secured the co- operation of the village pastor the same man who had been instrumental in having her parents send her away to school. Through him she was per- mitted to talk to the people at the church two or three times about the proposed celebration. She was careful to tell them that the Thanksgiving festival was meant specially to be a home festival in addition to being a time for the people to come together in their accustomed places of worship to thank God for the blessings of the year. She urged them, therefore, as far as they were able without going to unnecessary expense, to have family din- ners and bring together at one time and in one place as many members of the family as possible. She explained to them how this might be done successfully and economically, and with pleasure and profit to all concerned. She also urged them to be planning beforehand so that nothing might prevent their attending church Thanksgiving Day morning. She was going to hold the exercises in the church, because her little school was not large enough to furnish an assembly hall for the people who would be likely to be present. On Thanksgiving Day nearly everybody in town THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE. 53 went to the exercises. Many white people attended, including the county school commissioner and the school trustees. It was the first Thanksgiving service that any of them had ever witnessed. The program was made up, for the most part, of choice selections from negro authors, composers, orators, and so forth. A selection from Frederick Douglass on "Patriotism" was declaimed; one from Booker T. Washington's Atlanta Exposition speech was also delivered. Paul Laurence Dun- bar's poem entitled "Signs of the Times" (a Thanksgiving poem) was read by one of the pupils, and also "The Party," another of Dunbar's pieces, was rendered. "The Negro National Hymn," words by James W. Johnson and music by his brother, Eosamond Johnson, was sung by a chorus of fifty voices. At the opening of the serv- ice the president's Thanksgiving proclamation was read and appropriate remarks were made by Miss Wilkins. The closing remarks were made by the Kev. John Jones, the village pastor. The re- marks of Mr. Jones were in the congratulatory mood. He was naturally proud of Miss Gracie 's achievements, because he had had something to do with putting her on the road to an education. He spoke of the teacher as the leaven that was leaven- ing the whole lump, and the applause which fol- lowed the statement showed plainly the high esteem in which the teacher was held by all the people. Everyone enjoyed the service. None of the villagers had ever seen anything like it before. 54 THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE. After singing " America " all of them went away happy, many of them, in obedience to Miss Gracie 's previous counsel, going home to eat for the first time, well knowing what they were doing, a Thanksgiving dinner. At the home of Miss Wilkins there was an ex- cellent spread of 'possum, potatoes, rice, chicken, pickles, macaroni, bread, a precious Thanksgiving turkey, and the inevitable mincemeat pie. Besides Miss Gracie, there sat at the table that day her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Solomon Wilkins, John and Joseph Wilkins, brothers of Solomon who had come from a distance, Mary Andrews, a sister of Mrs. Wilkins, who also came from a distance, Grandma Wilkins, Grandma and Grandpa An- drews, the Eev. John Jones, his wife, his daughter, and his only son, Jasper Jones. Jasper had gone to school at T - one year after Gracie went, and, of course, was one year later in finishing the course there. On this Thanks- giving Day, nevertheless, he had been out of school long enough to have successfully established him- self in the business of poultry raising and dairy- ing. Just before the dinner party was dismissed the Kev. Mr. Jones arose and said: " There is another little ceremony you 'all is invited to witness befo ' you go out to see the base- ball game. I am authorized by these credentials which I hoi' in my hands to unite in the holy bonds of matrimony Miss Grace Wilkins and Mr. Jasper THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE. 55 Jones. If there is no objection, these two persons will please stan' up, an' I'll tie the knot." Of course there were no objections. The knot was tied. And when the villagers learned of the occurrence not long afterwards they had addi- tional reason for believing that they were right when they voted that Piney Grove had never seen the like of such a Thanksgiving Day, and that Miss Gracie Wilkins was one of the best women in all the world. THE LOUD GIRL. I do not know of a more sorrowful spectacle than that of a girl who is loud in her dress, loud in her manners, and loud in her speech. It is a great mis- take for a girl to suppose that this loudness will be mistaken by her friends and acquaintances for smartness. The desire to be regarded as bright and witty has led many a girl into the folly of being loud in her manners. She often cherishes the illu- sion that the attention such manners attract is combined with admiration, when the truth is that those who witness her strange conduct are simply wondering how it is possible for her to throw to the winds that charm of all girlhood modesty. One afternoon not long ago I saw a group of girls of the loud type. They came into the street car in which I was sitting. They all wore 56 LOUD GIRL. boys ' hats. One wore a vivid red jacket with, brass buttons, and another had on a brass belt. A third one had on a most conspicuous plaid skirt. This third one had a box of bonbons, and when the three BLAB-MOUTHED AND NOISY. were seated she opened the box and offered it to her companions, saying as she did so, in a voice loud enough and shrill enough to be heard in every part of the car; THE LOUD GIRL. 57 * ' It 's my treat ; have some, chums ! ' ' Upon this invitation one of the girls dived down into the box like a hungry bear, and held up a piece of the candy in triumph and then dashed it into her mouth with a great guffaw. ' ' 0, Mame ! ' ' said one of the girls, "if you ain't just horrid to go and take the very piece I wanted ! ' ' "Mame" laughed and, taking the candy from her -mouth, offered it to the other girl, saying as she did so : "Well, here it is, Lulu!" ' * Lulu ' ' struck the candy from l ' Mame 's ' ' hand, and it flew across the aisle into the lap of a lady sitting opposite the girls. This set all three of the girls to giggling and tittering, and they seemed in danger of convulsions when the owner of the box of candy let it fall and a part of the candy rolled out on the floor. The conductor came forward and picked up the box and candy and handed them to the owner. She giggled out her thanks, and "Lulu" said: "Why didn't you give him a gumdrop for his trouble?" This seemed to impress the other girls as a most brilliant witticism, and they fell to tittering vio- lently over it. Presently a gentleman came in and stumbled slightly over the feet of one of the girls thrust out into the aisle. "I beg your pardon," said the gentleman, as he lifted his hat, whereupon the three girls grinned MODEST AND QUIET. THE LOUD GIRL. 59 and giggled and giggled and grinned immoderate- ly, and one of them said : "Boxy, you had better ride out on the platform, where there is more room for your feet!" "Boxy" then struck "Lulu" for making this speech. "Lulu" pretended to be much offended and flung herself over to the other side of the car, where she made a grimace at the other girls. The conduct of these girls during the half hour that they were on the car was such as caused every father and mother who saw them to regard them with pity. The loud girl, my dear readers, is always an object of pity. She should be a sorry object for her own contemplation. An old writer has said : l ' You little know what you have done when you have first broken the bounds of modesty; you have set open the door of your fancy to the devil, so that he can represent the same sin- ful pleasure to you anew. ' ' Now, the loud girl may be entirely innocent of any actual wrong-doing, but she is regarded with dislike, distrust, and even disdain, by the better class of people. She acquires a reputation for rude- ness and coarseness, and the people of refinement will not associate with her. Her character suffers, no matter how innocent she may be of any inten- tion of doing wrong. Delicacy, modesty, is the cer- tain sign of sweetness, purity and gentleness of character, just as indelicacy is the certain sign of a lack of these beautiful traits. THE ROWDY BOY. You can tell him wherever you see him. There are certain marks or appearances which he carries about with him and which are never absent. For one thing you will find him with a cigarette stuck in his mouth, and a cigarette is one of the deadliest poisons in the world for boy or man. He wears his hat on the side or cocked back on his head. Fre- quently he stuffs both hands in his trousers' pock- ets. He doesn't attend school regularly; sometimes he starts for school and ends at the bathing pond or the baseball park. He is late at Sunday school, if he goes at all, and he stands 'round on the out- side at church while the service is going on inside. He steals rides on trains and on trolley cars, and on passing vehicles of all descriptions. He is saucy and impudent to older people, and is always ready and willing to quarrel or fight with his mates. He is what the boys call a ' ' bully. ' ' The loud girl and the rowdy boy are two things of which we have seen enough in this world. They are things; they are hardly worth the dignity of being called human beings. I saw one of these rowdy boys in his own home not a great while ago. His mother said to him: "Johnnie, you must always take off your hat whenever you -come into the house." "Good gracious alive," he said, "I can't do 60 THE ROWDY BOY. 61 anything right. What is the use of grabbing off your hat every time you come into your own house T" His mother looked sad, but said nothing. Pres- HE STUFFED BOTH HANDS IN His TROUSERS' POCKET. ently she discovered that her little boy had brought some mud into the house on his shoes. In her sweetest tones she said : "Johnnie, you must go to the door and wipe 62 THE ROWDY BOY. your feet now. See how you are tracking up the floor there!" ' i Well, ' ' said the rowdy boy with a snarl, ' i can 't the old floor be scoured 1 You must think this old house is gold." Now, I am a preacher, boys, and, being a preach- er, of course I am what is called a "man of peace," but I tell you that that was one time I came pretty near wishing that I wasn't a preacher so that I might have given that boy what he deserved. I was sorry, for the time being, that he wasn't my son. No manly little boy will ever talk to his mother in any such way. I suppose that boy thought it made him appear to be a very impor- tant personage, but he was very much mistaken. Don't be rowdy, boys; don't be rough; don't be rude. You were made for better things. HONESTY. Early in the morning two little boys came to the market place. They arranged their little stands and spread out their wares, and sat down to wait for customers. One sold watermelons and fruit, and the other sold fish and oysters. The hours passed on and both were doing well. By-and-by Sammie had only one melon left on his stand. A gentleman came along and said: HONESTY. 63 "What a fine, large melon! I think I will buy that one. What do you ask for it, my boy?" "This is my last melon, sir; and though it looks "HOW MUCH FOB THE MELON?" fair, there is an unsound spot on the other side," said the boy, turning the melon over. ' i So there is, ' ' said the man. ' i I don 't believe I '11 take it. But," he added, looking straight at the 64 HONESTY. boy, i ' is it very good business for you to point out the defects of your goods to customers !" " Perhaps not, sir," said the boy with becoming modesty, "but it is better than being dishonest." "You are right, my boy; always speak the truth and you will find favor with God and man. I shall not forget your little stand in the future." Then turning to the other boy's stand the man asked: "Are those fresh oysters!" "Yes, sir," said Freddie, "these are fresh this morning just arrived." The gentleman bought them and went away. "Sammie," said Freddie, "you never will learn any sense. What did you want to show that man that spot on the melon for? He never would have looked at it until he got home. IVe got an eye to business, myself. You see how I got rid of those stale oysters sold them for just the same price as fresh oysters. ' ' "Freddie," said the other boy, "I wouldn't tell a lie, or act one either, for twice the money we have both earned today. Besides I have gained a cus- tomer and you have lost one." And it turned out just as Sammie said. The next day the gentleman bought a large supply of fruit from Sammie, but he never spent another penny at Freddie 's stand. It continued that way through all the summer. At the close of the season he took Sammie into his store, and, after awhile, gave him a share in the business. UNCLE NED AND THE INSURANCE SOLICITOR.* Life insurance is something that every married man should carry. In fact, it is a fine investment for a young man to take out a ten- or twenty-year payment policy in some good company, which can be made in favor of his father or mother in the event of his death, or obtained in cash ten or twenty years later by himself. The following story tells of an insurance agent trying to insure the life of an old colored man the story is amusing, but only as a story. We do not advise any one to follow Uncle Ned's example. Charles Turner, an agent of the Workingmen's Industrial Aid Insurance Company, called upon Edmund Grant, . an elderly colored man, with a view to getting him to insure his life. ' i Good morning, Uncle Ned," said Mr. Turner. ' ' Good morning, Mr. Turner/' said the old man, raising his hat and making a low bow. i 'Uncle Ned, do you carry any insurance?" in- quired the agent. "Do I carry what?" asked Uncle Ned. "Do you carry any insurance? Is your life in- sured?" asked the agent. "Bless the Lord, yes, indeed, sir," replied the colored man; "long, long ago." "In what company?" asked the solicitor. 65 "THAT'S JUST WHAT MY RELIGION DOES!" UNCLE NED. 67 u l'm a Baptist, sir, a deepwater Baptist," answered Uncle Ned. The agent realized that the old man had not understood him, but, anyhow, he asked him: "How long has it been since you joined 1" "I joined the same year the stars fell," replied the old man. The solicitor knew that the old man referred to the year when the great meteoric display of shoot- ing stars took place, and said: "That's quite a long time ago. Does your com- pany pay any dividends !" "Mr. Turner, " said Uncle Ned, with a smile, "that question is out of my reach, just what do you mean ? ' ' "Why, Uncle Ned," said Mr. Turner, "a divi- dend is interest paid on your money; and if yon have been paying your money into one company for more than thirty years, surely you ought to have been receiving your dividends long before now, especially if it's an old-line company." "Well," said Uncle Ned, "it surely is the oldest line company that ever was. The Lord set it up himself way back yonder on Calvary's tree. But I haven 't ever heard of any interest or dividends nothing of the kind And you haven't heard me talk about paying in money for thirty years, you know you haven't. Salvation's free, man, salvation's free ! You know that as well as I do." "Oh, I see," said Mr. Turner; "I see that I have misunderstood you. You're talking about your soul's salvation." 68 UNCLE NED. "I certainly am," answered the old man. i ' Well, I came here to talk to you about insuring your life in. case of death or your body in case of accident or sickness, " replied the agent. "Accidents, sickness and death come to all of us," said Uncle Ned very solemnly. "There's no way of getting away from death." "That's so," replied the agent patiently; "in- surance companies cannot prevent sickness and death any more than you can, Uncle Ned, but in- surance companies can and do help you to bear your burdens in time of trouble." "That's just what my religion does," said the old man, with great satisfaction. "But we do it in a different way," persisted the agent. "How do you do it?" asked Uncle Ned. Then the agent went on to explain all about in- surance, the benefits, the premiums, accident benefits, sick benefits, etc., dwelling particularly on the fund that would be paid in the event of the old man's death. Uncle Ned listened with a great deal of interest, and after he had finished, inquired : "Mr. Turner, who do you say the money goes to when I die!" "To your wife," answered Mr. Turner, "or to your children, or any one else you name." "Well, Mr. Turner, let me ask you one ques- tion: Don't you think that would help the other fellow more than it would me?" UNCLE NED. 69 "What other fellow?" asked the agent. "My wife's second husband, " replied Ned. "You know as well as I do that if I was to die and leave five or six hundred dollars to her that some other colored gentleman would be trying to change her name before I got cold in the ground. ' ' The agent could not suppress a smile, and Uncle Ned went on: 1 1 Women are mighty curious ; if I went into this thing, I wouldn't dare let Dinah know about it. She is a mighty fine and loving wife right now. but if she knew there was all that money waiting for her when I died, wouldn't she be sort of looking forward to the time when she would get it to spend? Why, Mr. Turner, she might even be tempted to put something in my tea, and the first thing I knew some morning I'd wake up dead. I don't want anything to do with this insurance. The Baptist Church is good enough for me. ' ' When Mr. Turner gave it up and laughingly left him, he heard Uncle Ned singing "I'm a Baptist bred and a Baptist born, And when I die, that's a Baptist gone." THE STRENUOUS LIFE. They were having a rough-and-tumble time of it and Pansy was getting some pretty hard blows. She took them all good-naturedly, nevertheless, and tried to give as good as she received, much to the delight of her little boy friends. A lady who was standing near, afraid for the little girl, chided the boys and said: "You shouldn't handle Pansy so roughly you might hurt her. ' ' And then Pansy looked up in sweet surprise and said with amusing seriousness: i ' No ; they won ? t hurt me. I don 't break easy. ' ' It was a thoroughly childlike expression, but it had more wisdom in it than Pansy knew. She spoke out of a little girl's experience with dolls, some of which, as she had learned, broke very eas- ily. Pansy knew how delightful it was to have a doll that didn't break so easily. Though she was not a homely girl by any means, and though she was not a wicked little girl, yet she wanted it un- derstood that she was not like a piece of china. That was why the other children liked her so much because she knew how to rough it without crying or complaining at every turn. Pansy was not a cry-baby. There is all the time, my dear boys and girls, a great demand everywhere all through life for 70 THE STRENUOUS LIFE. 71 people who don't break easily people who know how to take hard knocks without- going all to pieces. The game of life is sometimes rough, even Jr ( I DON'T BREAK EASY." among those who mean to play fair. It is very trying when we have to deal with people who break easily, and are always getting hurt and 72 THE STRENUOUS LIFE. spoiling the game with their tears and -complaints. It is so much better when we have to deal with people who, like little Pansy, do not break easily. Some of them will laugh off the hardest words without wincing at all. You can jostle them as you will, but they don't fall down every time you shove them, and they don't cry every time they are pushed aside. You can't but like them, they take life so heartily and so sensibly. You don't have to hold yourself in with them all the time. You can let yourself out freely without being on pins as to the result. Young people of this class make good playmates or good work-fellows, as the case may be. So, boys and girls, you must learn to rough it a little. Don't be a china 'doll, going to smash at every hard knock. If you get hard blows take them cheerily and as easily as you can. Even if seine blow comes when you least expect it, and knocks you off your feet for a minute, don 't let it floor you long. Everybody likes the fellow who can get up when he is knocked down and blink the tears away and pitch in again. Learning to get yourself accustomed to a little hard treatment will be good for you. Hard words and hard fortune often make usif we don't let them break us. Stand up to your work or play courageously, and when you hear words that hurt, when you are hit hard with the blunders or misdeeds of others, when life goes roughly with you, keep right on in a happy, companionable, courageous, helpful THE STRENUOUS LIFE. 73 spirit, and , let the world know that you don't break easily. A HUMBUG. A boy or girl who is pleasant and agreeable everywhere except at home is a humbug. I know one boy who is a good deal of a humbug, although you would never think so if you were to see him in any place outside of his home. He is good-looking, neat and tidy, and carries himself like a little man. I do not know of a boy who. can tip his hat more gracefully to a lady, or who can say, "I beg your pardon," or "excuse me, please," more pleasantly than he can. But, for all that, he is a humbug. I visited his home the other day. I heard his mother speak to him. * ' Alexander, ' ' she said. * ' Well, what do you want I " he asked in a voice which plainly indicated his displeasure. "I want you to do something for me." "Oh, you are always wanting me to do some- thing just when I want to be doing something else, ' ' said Alexander, and this time he was whin- ing. In departing on his errand Alexander acciden- tally ran against his little sister in the hall. I ex- pected to hear him say, "I beg your pardon" in 74 A HUMBUG. the pleasant way that I knew he could say it, but he snapped out instead: "Oh, get out of the way, can't you?" When he returned from the postoffice, Alex- ander's mother was out in the yard trimming the 12^ "On, GET Our OF THE WAY, CAN'T You?" A HUMBUG. 75 flowers. While Alexander was reporting to her she happened to drop her scissors. I expected to see her polite and dutiful son pick them up, as he was close by when the scissors fell; but the boy paid no attention to the scissors. When his mother said, "Please pick up my scissors for me, Alexander", " he said: "What did you drop 'em for?" I spent the best part of one whole day at Alex- ander's home, and never once during all that day did I hear him speak politely to his mother or sisters, nor d^d he observe the ordinary rules of courtesy and good behavior in their presence. He was continually grumbling and complaining and finding fault. So I think I have a right to say that this boy is a good deal of a humbug. Any boy is a humbug who is polite and gracious to others and in every way discourteous and dis- agreeable at home. Don't you think so, too? HOW TO BE HANDSOME. Do you want to he handsome 1 I '11 tell you how. First, look well to your health. Eat regularly and simply, and take proper rest, in order to be healthy. Do not crowd the stomach. The stomach can no more work all* the time, night and day, than a horse ; it must have regular rest. The body must have proper rest also. Do not keep late hours. Go to bed early. If you have work which must be done, it is a good deal better to rise early in the morning and do it than it is to sit up late at night and work. Secondly, good teeth are essential to good looks. Brush the teeth regularly with a soft brush morn- ing and night, especially at night. Be sure to go to bed at night with clean teeth. Thirdly, look well to the ventilation of your bedrooms. No one can have a clear skin who breathes bad air. Fresh air is a preventive of a multitude of diseases. Bad air is the cause of a great many premature deaths. Fourthly, cleanliness of the entire body is of vast importance. Some one has said that ' i Clean- liness is next to godliness, " and some one else has added, "And soap is a means of grace. " Hand- some people not only eat regularly and simply; they not only sleep regularly and look well to 76 HOW TO BE HANDSOME. 77 proper ventilation; but handsome people will take regular baths. Fifthly, more than all else, in order to look well you must wake up the mind and soul. When the mind is awake, the dull, sleepy look passes away from the eyes. Keep thinking pleasant and noble thoughts ; do not read trashy novels or books ; read books which have something good in them. Talk with people who know something. Be often in the company of those who know more than you do. Hear lectures and sermons and profit by them. If we listen and understand and heed, the mind and soul are awakened. So much the better if the spir- itual nature is aroused. Sometimes a plain face is really glorified with the love of God and of man which shines through it. Lastly, keep a strong and vigorous body by tak- ing plenty of wholesome outdoor exercise, and do all the good you can. Why not begin to grow handsome today? PATIENCE. Patience is one of the marks of a high charac- ter. It might well be called the habit of closing the mind against disagreeable and annoying con- ditions. To acquire this habit so effectually as to hide even from one's self any sense of suffering or offense from contact with such conditions is what the truly cultivated aim at. Life, it is true, is full of trying things, but to let the mind dwell upon them only serves to increase their offense to the feelings or the senses. There are people, of course, who are incapable of self-concentration, and whose imagination, if left free to gad about, seems always to fix upon and exaggerate every element of disturbance. They live in what is called an elementary stage of moral discipline, and are perpetually fretting about things they cannot help. They are never able to shut down the will against any unpleasantness. They permit merely accidental conditions to exer- cise a kind of tyrannical sway over them, which, if their minds were once bent to the practice of put- ting up with things, would cease to present .any annoyance whatever. It is difficult, no doubt, to acquire this habit, but this is what patience means in its highest sense. It is spiritual endurance, and its chief power con- 78 PATIENCE. 79 sists not so much in adding to the number of our joys as in lessening the number of our sufferings. It is, therefore, a mark of power over one's self and a means of power over others. With patience the outward success or failure of a man is a small thing compared with that success which he has achiev- ed within himself. And that kind of success the success which enables a man to laugh at failure and rise su- perior to discouragements and difficulties that kind of success is a means of help and inspiration to all those about him. If we consider the works of nature we shall see that nature's most beneficent operations are the results of pa- t i e n c,e. Anything which grows must have time, and the best things in the PATIENCE. world are generally those things which demand the longest time for their growth and development. The rank and short-lived weed reaches its full de- velopment in the shortest possible time, but the oak, which is to stand for centuries, demands the sunshine and the storm of years before its strength is fully developed. 80 PATIENCE. jNow, boys and girls, one of the hardest demands which nature makes upon people (especially upon young people, full of strength and energy and am- bition) is to wait for the results of growth. No man becomes instantly strong morally; he must grow into strength. However great his ambition and his zeal may be, no man becomes a scholar in a year. It takes time, and lots of it. No man reaches at a single bound the full development of his whole nature. He grows into strength. A good soldier cannot be made without war, nor can a skillful seaman be made on land. So in the race of life we must fight hard for all we get and be patient. Whatever else may be true, or may not be true, only patient and continued efforts not hasty efforts lead to success. Before me lies a block of wood. It is full of knots. It seems to me I can never split it. But I bravely make the attempt. The first blow makes little impression. The axe springs back with a bound. Again and again I strike. . Then a tiny crack appears. A few more licks and the block yields. I have succeeded. Can you tell me which blow did the work ? Was it not the first blow and the last and all between? You have tried some- thing and failed. ^Try again. If you fail, try once more. And on and on, keep trying until you win the victory. BEAUTIFUL EYES. Eyes like the violet in them I see All that is fair, that is holy to me ! Eyes that shed fragrance, so constant, so true, Pure as a clear drop of morning dew. Eyes like the violet, gently along Lead me to vespers to prayer and to song. Eyes like the violet, let me I pray Live within range of thy glances all day! GOING WITH THE CROWD. "But all the girls went, mother. I didn't like to be the only one left out. Besides, when I said I wouldn't go they all laughed at me and said that I was a coward. ' ' It was Wednesday morning, before school time, and Anna was dreading to go back to school dreading to meet her teacher. The day before a circus had been in town. At recess, while the children were on the playground, they heard the noise of the band, and one of the girls said: " Let's go and see the parade." "All right," said Anna. "I'll go and ask the teacher if we may." "No; don't ask her she might say no. We can get back before the bell rings, and she will never know that we left the grounds." 81 82 GOING WITH THE CROWD. Anna and one or two other girls held back. They all knew that it was against the rules to go off the playground at recess without permission. ' 'Oh, come on! Come on!" insisted one of the girls. "You're afraid; you're afraid! Come on! Don't be such a coward; all the rest are going." And so Anna went. When the girls saw the parade pass one point they wanted to see it once more, and away they went through the cross street to get to another corner ahead of the procession. School was for- gotten; and when they did remember, recess time was long past and it was too late to go back. The next morning, as Anna stood in the kitchen talking it over with her mother, her little heart was very heavy. She knew she had done wrong; she dreaded to go to school; and she was very unhappy. "Perhaps," said her mother, "if you had been brave about not going, the other girls would have stayed on the school grounds too. Or, if you had asked the teacher, I think she would have let you all go. But whether she did or not, it is never safe to do a thing just because ' all the rest do it. ' Go- ing with the crowd is not a good plan unless you are sure that the crowd is going in the right direc- tion. The only wise thing for you to do is to be sure you are right, and then stick to it and never mind what the crowd does." "I didn't mean to do wrong," said Anna, as the tears started in her eyes. "MOTHEB, I'M So HAPPY. TEACHER FORGAVE ME!" 84 GOING WITH THE CROWD. "I know that, my dear," said her mother, "but you were more afraid of being teased than you were of doing wrong. I hope you will remember from this day forward that the brave girl is not the girl who dares to do wrong, but the brave girl is the one who does what she knows to be right, in spite of the taunts and jeers of her playmates. ' ' "What shall I tell my teacher?" asked Anna in a low voice, as she dropped her head. "Oh," said her mother, kissing her, "you go right straight to your teacher and tell her that you have done wrong, and that you are sorry for it. Ask her to let you' say so to the whole school. Be sure to beg her pardon, and promise not to do so again. ' ' Little Anna did as her mother told her. That afternoon, when she came back from school, she ran into her mother's arms and said: "Mother, I'm so happy. Teacher forgave me, and I mean to be good. ' ' And the smile on Anna's face. spoke plainly of a happy heart. MAEY AND HER DOLLS. Was there ever a time when the first doll was born! Was there ever a time when little boys and girls, especially little girls, did not love dolls and did not have something of -that nature to play MARY AND HER DOLLS. 85 with? It would appear that dolls, or playthings somewhat like unto dolls, are as old as babies themselves that is to say, boys and girls, that ever since there have been little children in the MABY AND HER DOLLS. world there have been little things for them to play with. And I never saw a sane person in my life who regrets that it is so. It is not only amus- ing, it is inspiring to see the little children making 86 MARY AND HER DOLLS. .merry with their dolls and their toy animals and their little express wagons and their wooden guns and their toy steam engines and their whistles and their balloons and their brownies and their jump- ing-jacks and their hobby-horses and a hundred and one other things. Mary had put away her dolls for the night and was cleaning the doll house when papa came in. "How many doll babies have you now, Mary?" he asked. "I have five dolls now, papa," said Mary, "but only one is a baby that is little Flossie. Bobbie and Nell are three years old now; Mattie is two and Jerusha is one year old. Flossie is now the only little baby." The Rev. Dr. Smithson smiled. "Well," he said after a time, "five dolls make a big family, I think." "I don't," said Mary quickly. "Rolla Mays has thirteen girls and two boys in her doll family, and I haven't but five in all!" "I shouldn't think," said Dr. Smithson, "that Rolla would know what to do with so many. ' ' 1 1 Why, papa, of course she does ! ' ' "Mary," said Dr. Smithson, looking thought- fully at his little daughter, "I have a little girl in my Sunday school class who hasn't a single doll. I thought you might like to give her one of yours. You could spare one couldn't you?" "Oh, papa, I couldn't not a one," exclaimed Mary. MARY AND HER DOLLS. 87 "Not one when this poor little girl hasn't any?" "Oh, papa, I love my dolls so how can I give them away?" "You'd have four left wouldn't that be enough ? ' ' Mary thought a long while before speaking. She looked distressed. "Papa," she said at last, "Mrs. Grant was over here the other day, and she said that she wished you and mamma would give me to her because she didn't have any little girl of her own. You've got five children yourself, papa but would you give any of 'em away just because you would have four left?" Dr. Smithson took his little daughter in his arms and kissed her. "No, dear," he said; "papa wouldn't give any one of his children away. You may keep all of your dollies, and we'll think of some other way to help poor little Hattie." The next morning Mary said: "Papa, I have thought it all out for Hattie. You know I have been saving up a little money to buy me a little iron bank but I can wait for that. I have saved up fifty cents don't you think that will be enough to buy a nice little dolly for Hattie, and let me keep my babies?" Dr. Smithson knew that Mary had long been planning for the bank. So he asked: 88 MARY AND HER DOLLS. "Are you quite sure that you want to spend your money in this way?' 7 "Yes, papa, I'm very sure," said Mary with a smile, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Dr. Smithson and Mary bought Hattie a pretty doll. Hattie was overjoyed when she saw it. Mary went back home, glad that her papa had under- stood how she loved her dolls, and glad to find that not one of her beloved children was missing. JAKY TOLBERT'S PLAYMATES, "Well, Johnnie, where are you going this morn- ing?" askrd Mrs. Jones as her little boy started towards the gate. "I'm goin' over to Jaky's, mamma; you know I must go over to Jaky 's every day. ' ' What do you find at Jaky's to make you so anxious to go over there every day almost before you are out of bed good ? ' ' "Oh, mamma, Jaky has the nicest playmates over to his house you 'most ever saw." "Who else goes over to Jaky's besides you?" asked Mrs. Jones. "Jaky don't have no reg'lar visitor but me," said Johnnie proudly. ' * Me an ' Jaky is the whole thing." JAKY TOLBERT'S PLAYMATES. 89 "Well, you are saying a good deal for yourself when you say that Jaky has the nicest playmates in the world don't you think so?" "I didn't mean me," explained Johnnie. "I'M GOING OVER TO JAKY'S, MAMMA." 90 JAKY TOLBERT'S PLAYMATES. " Jaky's playmates ain't folks at all. Jaky's play- mates is animals just animals, but I do believe that they have got as much sense as some folks I know. ' ' ' * What kind of animals ? ' ' asked Mrs. Jones, be- coming interested. Then Johnnie went on to explain. He said: "Jaky's got chickens and dogs and cats and birds. He's got names for all of 'em, and they all know their names and they just run to Jaky when he calls them. The chickens and birds, too, will just walk right up and eat out of Jaky's hand. And his trained dogs and cats are just the funniest things I ever saw. His little dog, Trip, can carry a gun and obey the commands, "Carry arms!" "Present arms!" "Parade rest!" just like a little soldier. One time at a fair he saw trained dogs and horses, elephants, and even lions. Then he decided that he would train some animals himself. And, mamma, he has done well. Why, he's got a cat that can spell some words. Jaky printed some letters of the alphabet on separate cards, and he 's got a cat that will pick out the right ones every time. One of his little dogs can play the fiddle. It may seem strange, but he certainly can do it. He can hold the fiddle, and draw the bow across it just the right way, and he can play a little tune. Jaky calls it a dog tune, and I think he ought to know. "You just ought to see Jaky's chickens he's got six of 'em. He calls them and they all come JAKY TOLBERT'S PLAYMATES. 91 running. Then he holds out his arm, and calls them by name, and they will jump up on his little arm, one after the other, and will sit there until Jaky tells them to jump down. And Jaky is so kind to his two birds that they won't fly away when he lets them out of their cages for a little while. He can take them up in his arms and pat them gently, and then he puts them down, and they will lie still right by Jaky until Jaky calls them by name and tells them to go into the house that is, I mean, into their cages. "By the way, mama, I forgot to tell you. Jaky is getting up an animal show, and he says that I am to be his manager. He 's going to print the cards to-day. He's going to call his circus, "JAKY TOLBERT'S GREAT ANIMAL SHOW -THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH," and he's going to make me the manager of his circus. Won't that be fine? You'll come and see it won't you! We're going to charge only one cent for you to come in. Oh, it's going to be great, and I don 't want you to miss it. ' ' " To be sure, I '11 come, ' ' said Mrs. Jones. < ' Tell Jaky I'm glad to hear about how much he loves the dumb animals every manly boy ought to love and protect them." 6 i I tell you, ' ' said Johnnie, as he hurried out of the gate, "Jaky will fight anybody who hallooes at one of his pets or mistreats one in the least. He's just as kind to them as he can be. Don't you forget the show. It'll come off next week." A VALENTINE PARTY. It was one week from St. Valentine's Day, and the Berry children had already provided a num- ber of the tokens, comic and otherwise, which they meant to send to their friends. Jack pro- duced a grotesque and awfully exaggerated cari- cature of a withered, stoop-shouldered old woman, with some cruel lines of doggerel printed be- neath it. "I'm going to send this to old Mrs. Gray," said Jack, as he exhibited the comic picture. Nearly all the children laughed, and said that the picture and the words beneath it would just suit the old woman. Mrs. Gray was an old and povetry-stricken widow woman, and many of the children of the little village took delight in play- ing tricks on her on Hallowe'en and Valentine nights. In this way, the children, especially the boys, had made her life so miserable that the old woman often said that she hated even the sight of a boy. In the midst of the merriment over the pro- posed venture of Jack Berry, it was Lillie Berry who spoke up, saying, * ' Jack, I tell you what I think. I think we ought to give Mrs. Gray a genuine surprise next week. She has had so many ups and downs in this life, I really believe that we can give her a little pleasure if we give her a true true surprise. Of 92 OLD MRS. GRAY. 94 A VALENTINE PARTY. course, all the boys and girls will be invited to join in, but it is not going to be like a regular party, but something like the ' surprise ' parties or donation parties that we sometimes give the preacher; we'll just put the things on the door- step and run, the way we do with valentines, you know. What do you say to that, Jack 1 And what do the rest of you think 1 ' ' Very quickly the Berry children agreed with what Lillie had said, and immediately they set about planning for the valentine party. The night of February fourteenth was clear, cold and moonless. Across the fields in the dark- ness, a throng of merry young children, with a wagon or two (little goat wagons) piled high with baskets and bundles and wood, slipped silently toward the little house where old Mrs. Gray sat shivering over her scanty fire. A sudden knock at the door aroused Mrs. Gray from her musing. She hobbled painfully to the door. Opening it, she saw by the light of the tallow candle a basket of rosy apples and another of potatoes. Nothing else was in sight. A second knock followed almost as soon as the door had closed on the two baskets which were hurriedly drawn inside. This time a can of kero- sene oil held a lonely vigil on the doorstep. "I haven't had a drop in my lamp for two weeks, ' ' Jack heard the old lady say, as she peered out eagerly into the darkness before closing the door. A VALENTINE PARTY. 95 As she was busy filling her lamp, she was inter- rupted by a third knock, which resulted in a basket filled with groceries in parcels in all shapes and sizes. Great tears stood in Mrs. Gray's eyes, and a great lump arose in her throat. At last knock number four revealed the real Saint Valentine a group of laughing boys and girls, every one of whom carried an armful either of pine or oak wood for the stove. 1 * Where shall we put it?" asked Jack Berry, as eager now to help as he had been the week before to tease. Mrs. Gray was rubbing her eyes, and wondering if she could possibly be-awake and in her right mind. ' ' Wish you many happy returns of Valentine 's Day!" said Lillie Berry, as she slipped into the withered hand a small purse containing the valen- tine money of the boys and girls; and before the bewildered woman could say more than a fervent "God bless you," her guests had melted away in the darkness, and she was left to weep tears of thankfulness among her new possessions. "NO MONEY DOWN." Boys and girls, I suppose you are quite familiar with what is known as buying things on the instal- ment plan. You have seen people in your own neighborhood perhaps in your own homes buy Q6 NO MONEY DOWN. things that way. Chairs, tables, bed-steads, rugs, pictures, things for the kitchen and things to wear, and many other things are bought that way. Most people think they are getting a great bar- gain when they are able to buy things by paying a small amount in cash as the first payment say fifty-cents or a dollar and then pay the balance in small weekly or monthly payments. And espe- cially do some of our mothers and fathers think that they are ^get ting a great bargain, if they are able to buy things they want for "no money down" and so much a week. In such matters, my dear boys and girls, your parents are making a terrible mistake and are setting you a wrong example. They lose sight of the fact, when they fall into the habit of buying anything and every- thing on the instalment plan or on the ' ' no money down" plan, that a day of reckoning is sure to come ; that the time comes when they must pay for everything that they have been led into buying. Thoughtful people wise people prefer to pay "money down" when they buy anything; and this habit of paying as they go helps them in at least two ways. First, it saves money in their pockets, and, secondly, it keeps them from run- ning in debt. Children, these men who come to your homes with great packs on their backs always charge you double for whatever they may sell you on the "no money down" plan no matter what it is! That is why they are willing to make the terms so NO MONEY DOWN. 97 "easy," as they say. In the end they profit by their schemes, and nobody else does profit by their schemes except these peddlers. You ought to avoid them as you would a wild beast. You do not know now, boys and girls, what a terrible thing debt is. I honestly hope that you may never know, and if you will take the advice of older and wiser persons I am sure you will always be free? from the bondage of debt. Not long ago, I saw two women standing at the window of one of these "no money down' 7 or "hand-me-down" stores. One said to the other ' ' I just believe I '11 get me a new cloak this win- ter. My cloak didn't cost but three dollars, and it is so old and shabby that I am ashamed to wear it in the street. Look at that beauty over there in the corner. Only ten dollars and 'no money down'." "Yes;" said her companion, "but I guess the money will have to come down sometime." "Oh, of course; but, you know, I won't have to pay it all at once. I could probably get it for fty cents a week." "Well, why don't you just save the fifty cents a week until you have enough to pay * cash down ' for the cloak, and in that way you would save, I am sure, three or four dollars; because you can buy that same cloak for six dollars or seven dollars in cash." "Oh," said the woman, "I'd never save it as I 98 NO MONEY DOWN. would if I had the cloak and knew that I just had to pay for it." "But, Delia, the cloak would not really be yours until you had paid for it, and I would feel kind of cheap wearing a cloak that didn't belong to me. If I were you I would stick to the old cloak until I could pay the money down for a new one. That 's what I would do." And that is exactly what anybody should do who wants a new cloak. It is what people should do, no matter what they want. I know a boy fifteen or sixteen years old who had the courage and the manliness and the honesty to wear a very shabby old overcoat all of last winter rather than buy one on the "no money down ".plan. It is his plan always to "pay as he goes," and be debtor to 110 one. I heard the other day of a young fellow who goes two or three blocks out of his way to avoid passing certain stores because he owes the pro- l>rietors of those stores money that he cannot pay. That boy, I know, is miserable night and day. Mr. Longfellow, in his "The Village Blacksmith," tells us that- the honest old blacksmith could look * ' the whole world in the face, ' ' because he did not owe anybody anything he was out of debt. And boys and girls, if you are level-headed, you will fight shy of the "no money down" plan. By choosing the "money dowi" plan, you will save your self-respect and your good name. TOMMY'S BABY BKOTHEE. For several months Deacon Tadpole's little son, Tommy, had made constant and repeated reference to the fact that he had no little baby brother or sister to play with. One day, when he was feeling unusually sad over his misfortune, he said to his father, - "Papa, I ain't got no little baby brother to play with you might at least buy me a little pony." "Papa can't buy a pony, son;" said the deacon. "A pony costs too much. I thought you wanted a little brother or sister. ' ' "I do," said Tommy, "but if I can't get what I Tvant I'm willing to take what I can. get." "But, you would rather have a little brother than a pony, wouldn't you?" asked Mr. Tadpole. Tommy thought awhile and then said he thought he would rather have a little baby brother than to have a pony. "You see," he said, "it costs so much to keep a pony, and we would have to build a stable for him, wouldn't we, papa?" "Yes," answered his father, "and we haven't got any room in the backyard for a stable." "And we'd have to buy hay, too," said the child. "Yes," said his father. "Well, I'd rather have the little brother." 99 100 TOMMY'S BABY BROTHER. So the matter was left in abeyance until a month ago, when little Tommy was told one morning that a little brother had come to him. "PAPA, WON'T You BUY ME A LITTLE PONY?' TOMMY'S BABY BROTHER. 101 He was delighted. He danced around in the hall and made such a racket on the stairs that the nurse threatened to have him sent away. When he was permitted to see the baby, Tommy went into ecstasies. He wanted to kiss the baby, and cried because they wouldn't let him hold it in his arms. But Tommy's enthusiasm for the new baby began to wear off in about a week's time. It was always, "Sh-sh! Sh-sh! You'll wake the baby," or "'.tommy, you must be more quiet!" or "You can't come in this room now!" In fact, the little baby brother seemed to be in- terfering with little Tommy's fun to such an extent that he decided to go to his father and see if some new arrangement could not be made. Tommy found his father in the library. He ran to Deacon Tadpole and climbed upon his knee, and said: "Papa, I don't believe I want my little brother any more. I can't have any fun with him. I'll tell you what let's do. Let's trade him for a pony. ' ' "Oh, we couldn't do that," said the deacon. Tommy was silent for a time. Then he said : "Well, I don't suppose we could find anybody that would want to trade a pony for him, but don 't you think you could trade him for a goat?" KEEPING SCHOOL. Every boy and girl in America ought to go to school. The public school is one of the best insti- tutions connected with the life of our nation. But did you ever hear of a little girl who went to school to herself? I have, and I want to tell you about it. We will call her Tootsie. There was no school-house, and no teachers; nothing only just little Tootsie ; not even her dolls ; just simply Tootsie sitting all alone on the couch near the window. That was all there was to this little school, so far as anybody could see. But Tootsie said she had a large school, with some sixty pupils. Sometimes she would say that her scholars had been naughty and that they would have to stay in at recess; and then again she would say that they had been promoted to a higher grade; she often talked to her pupils as if they were real live people, telling them how they should stand and how they should sit and giving them permission to be excused, and so on. So you see it seemed in Tootsie 's mind very much more li ke a real school than it could to us. Every morning, when Tootsie 's sister would start for school, Tootsie would watch her until she was out of sight, and then she would go and sit down on the couch. Not having a true-true 102 KEEPING SCHOOL. 103 school book, she would take her Christmas story books. At first she would only look at the pic- tures and try to think what the story about them must be. Then she would ask mamma or grandma, or whoever happened to be nearest, what the words of the picture-story were. She would then say the words of the story over to herself and look TOOTSIE! at the picture. Next day she would read over the words of the same story as far as she could remem- ber them, and when she came to a word that she did not know, up she would jump and go and ask some one what it was. When she had learned a story herself, she would then talk to her sixty 104 KEEPING SCHOOL. imaginary scholars about it, showing them the picture and explaining the story to them just as though the children were all there before her in her little school room. In this way Tootsie went through one after another of her story books, picking out the stories that had pleasing pictures. But the nice thing of it all was that Tootsie was really learning to read, and she did get so that she read real well; for she knew just what she was reading about, and often, when she would find a story that was funny, she would laugh right out even if she was at school, and then she would find mama or grandma and read the funny part to them. Maybe one reason why Tootsie learned so fast was because her school was just like play to her and not like work. Of course, it is easier to play than it is to work. But could you think of any better thing to play than to play keeping school? Why not try it? It helped Tootsie wonderfully, and I believe it would help many other boys and girls. What do you think about it? THE SCHOOL OF THE STREET. Little Joe, ten years old, had followed his busi- ness as a newsboy and bootblack in Smutville for three or four years, and, of course, had turned out to be a first-class little citizen of the street. He could curse and swear, and drink and smoke, just the same as any old hardened sinner. One day, after Joe had finished one of his daily fights with some other small boy, a kind-hearted gentleman stepped up to him and said, "My little man, do you go to school! " "Nope," said Joe. "Do you go to Sunday-school?" "Nope." "Well," said the gentleman, "what do you expect to do when you are grown?" "I ain't going to wait till I'm grown -I'm going to be a jockey; that's what I'm going to be." "How would you like to be bank cashier or president of a great bank? Wouldn't you like that better?" "Yep," said the boy, "but a poor boy can't get no job like that now you know he couldn't." ' ' Oh, yes ; he could if he were to prepare himself for it. But a poor boy, and no other boy, will ever be a great business man if he is going to live for- 105 106 THE SCHOOL OF THE STREET. LITTLE JOE. ever in the street- cursing and swearing and fighting and, it may be, stealing, and having no higher am- bition than to be a jockey.'' "Are you a par- son ?" asked the boy, becoming interested. "No, but I am in- terested in little boys. I am the secretary, of the Young Men's Christian Association and we have a boys' department, I want you to join it. I have found out about your habits and your surroundings ; I was told of the death of your mother and father; and I made up my mind to come and ask you to come over to the Young Men's Christian Association and live with us. You may continue to sell your papers and black boots, but, you see, living with us, you can go to school at night, and some day you will have a good education and you might be a bank cashier." Little Joe took this good man's advice and went to live in the Y. M. C. A. building. He did not turn out to be a bank cashier or president, but what was better, Joe turned out to be a General Secretary of one of the largest Y. M. C. A. 's among the colored people of this country, and in that way THE SCHOOL OF THE STREET. 107 has been instrumental in saving a great many other boys from the gutter. But Joe would never have amounted to anything if he had not been taken away from the wicked influences of the street, and placed on the road to higher things. The worst school in this world that any boy can go to is the school of the street. The school of the street turns out the most impure, the most dishonest and the most illiterate boys, and those boys and girls who ever rise to be any- thing or anybody in the world are the ones who leave the influences of the street in due time, as Little Joe did. The street offers most of its work and most of its attractions at night, as many boys can tell. The life of the street leads to no career that is worth following. The good careers are made by those whom the street has not had a chance to spoil, or by those who are taken out of the streets before they become hopeless cases. There is no greater error than the common notion that it is a good thing to let a boy run the streets and become "hard" and "tough" and "have his wits sharpened" and make "a little man" of himself, as some foolish people say. A boy learns more downright mischief in one night in the street than he can unlearn in the home in six months. And so, what will the teaching of the home, the public school and the Sunday-school amount to, if we are going to give our boys in their young and tender years the freedom of the streets? If now and then a street boy that is to 108 THE SCHOOL OF THE STREET. say, a boy hardened in the ways of the street does get a good place, in most cases he will lose it and fall back to the old, free life of the gutter. The boys who succeed are the boys who get away from, or who are taken away from, the influences of the street and who are surrounded by better and more wholesome influences. Those who re- main under the influences of the street become in the course of time members of the great army of beggars, tramps and criminals. It is a great pity that there should be so many stories going the rounds which tell about newsboys and messenger boys and so on rising to be bank clerks and tele- graph-operators and so forth. On the whole, these stories are misleading, and for the reason that they seem to give the impression to many innocent toys and to many thoughtless parents that the surest way to give a boy a good start in life is to send him out into the streets to " rough it" and ght his way to the front over beer bottles, games of chance, the race-track, and the pool room, to the accompaniment of vulgar jokes, profane swearing and evil associates. I repeat: The school of the street is the worst school in the world, and the sooner boys get out of it the better it will be for them. THE FOX HUNT. Uncle Hambright used to pride himself upon his ability to invent amusing games for the children. Sometimes he found it hard to think of anything new, but the demands of the children were so insistent and his desire to please them always was so intense that it often happened that Uncle Ham- bright could almost make a way out of no way. Dinner-time was fast approaching. All the morning, the half-dozen little children, who were spending the day with Uncle Hambright at the Sunday-school picnic, had been playing every con- ceivable sort of game and had been enjoying every imaginable kind of story told in Uncle Ham's inimitable way, but still the children were not satisfied. "Just one more story, " or "Just one more game, " or " Give us your best game now for the last before dinner, " the children clamored one after another. "Very well/' said Uncle Ham. "You all wait until I come back, and then we'll play fox-hunt- ing." Uncle Ham went and told his sister and her husband, the parents of the little children, to take the dinner-baskets far into the woods to the place which they had already agreed upon as the spot where the dinner-table should be spread. Coming back to the children, Uncle Ham said, 109 110 THE FOX HUNT. UNCLE HAMBRIGHT. " Now, we are ready. Come close and listen while I explain. ' ' With anxious hearts and eager faces, and clapping their glad hands, the children gathered around Uncle Ham. "Now," said he, "I have a piece of chalk here in my hand. I am going to make something like this wherever I go along." While he was speaking he made a round ring on the fence close by. He put marks for the ears and feet and a mark for the tail. Then he continued: "This is the fox. I'm going to make foxes along^ the path that I take into the woods sometimes these foxes may be on fences, sometimes on trees, sometimes on rocks,-or anywhere I wish to place them. Whenever you find a fox you will know that you are on the right road, and you must be sure each time to follow in the direction that the head of the fox points. Then you won't lose your way. You must give me a little start, because I must be out of sight before you all begin the hunt. At the end of the hunt, if you follow carefully, you will find a large present waiting for each one of you. You may help your- self to whatever you like, and then we shall all come back together, because, you know, I will be THE FOX HUNT. . Ill at the end myself waiting for you when you come." It seemed that the ten minutes start that the children had agreed to give Uncle Hambright would never come to an end, so eager were they to begin the hunt. By-and-by the time came, and they were off. The first few foxes had been drawn on the board-walk, so the hunters had easy sailing for a little while. Pretty soon, however, one of the girls discovered a fox on a tree, and the head of the fox pointed right into the woods. At first the children halted. The eldest girl said finally, after studying a few minutes, "Let's go on; Uncle Hambright wouldn't take us where anything could hurt us, and, besides, he said he would be waiting at the end." Thus re-assured, all of them plunged into the woods. Once in the woods the little foxes drawn on trees and stumps carried them right along by the side of a babbling brook for a long distance. Sometimes they would find one fox, and then they would find it very hard to locate the next one. It was great fun for them to scurry about in the woods, examining trees, stumps, rocks and every- thing, hunting for the foxes. Finally one of the little girls found a fox on a fence. The head of the fox pointed upwards. The little child said, "This little fox seems to be pointing to heaven; I'm sure we can't go up there." "Oh, no;" said the oldest girl, again coming to the rescue, "I think that that litle fox leads over the fence that's all." 112 THE FOX HUNT. So, over the fence they jumped and continued the chase. The course proved to be zig-zag now for a few "WAIT HEBE UNTIL I RETURN." minutes, and the children found the foxes more and more difficult to locate. They felt safe again, when the foxes were found on stones or rocks lead- THE FOX HUNT. 113 ing up the side of a hill. The woods began to thin out, and the children were no longer timid. Up the hill they went with a merry laugh and a shout. Once on top of the hill, they lost their course again. After a time, they found a fox, though, and that fox pointed straight down the hill. The children bravely followed. At the foot of the hill, they came suddenly upon an open space, and close by there was a great big fox marked upon a piece of black paste-board and standing right over a bub- bling spring of water. " Uncle Hambright must have meant for us to stop here," said one. "Maybe, he meant for us to stop and get some water, " said another. One or two of the fox-hunters stopped and drank some water. Then the oldest one said f "Come on now, let's look for another fox; I guess we are most through now." About twenty yards away from the spring, the children came to another open space that was well shaded. What was their delight and surprise to find there stretched out before them on a large white table cloth, laid on the bare ground, a sump- tuous picnic-dinner. And in the middle of the table there was a true-true stuffed fox with a large red apple in his mouth. For a few moments the children stood around the table in bewilderment. But they were not to be kept in suspense a great while. Pretty soon, Uncle Hambright and mama and papa came out of the woods near by, and such 114 THE FOX HUNT. a laugh as went around that picnic-dinner was never heard before or since! At the close of the meal, the children all voted that that was the best game that Uncle Ham had played during the day. A BOLD VENTUBE. "Mr. Slocum, good morning, sir; I came around to ask you to lend me five dollars. " Mr. Slocum, Manager of the Harlem Steamboat Company, looked up from his desk in surprise when he heard this abrupt announcement. " What's that?" he asked curtly. "Lend me five dollars," said the little boy who had first addressed him. "Who are you!" demanded Mr. Slocum. "I'm nobody," said the boy, "nobody, but I want you to lend me five dollars. ' ' Mr. Slocum, who was generally said to be a hard man to deal with, was surprised at the boy's pre- sumption, yet, nevertheless, he was secretly pleased at the boy's frank and open manner. "Do you know what borrowing money means?" asked Mr. Slocum, rising and looking down upon the diminutive figure standing before him. The boy was barefooted, held his hat in his hand, and his hair was nicely combed. Mr. Slocum con- A BOLD VENTURE. 115 tinned : ' l Don 't you know when a person borrows money he is supposed to pay it back ! ' ' "Oh, yes," said the boy; "I know that. You lend me the money, and I'll pay it back all right. I only want it for three months. I '11 pay it back. ' ' There was something about the boy's face and "LEND ME FIVE DOLLARS!" general deportment that won Mr. Slocum's favor. He ran his hand into his pocket, pulled out a five- dollar bill and handed it to the boy. "Thank you, sir," said the boy, as he turned to go," thank you, sir; I'll pay it back." 116 A BOLD VENTUEE. Three months later, the same little boy entered Mr. Slocum 's office. "Here's your five dollars, Mr. Slocum," said the little boy. "I'm much obliged to you, sir." " Who are you ? ' ' as Mr. Slocum, as he reached out and took the money. "I'm nobody," said the boy. "Well, why do you bring me this money!" "Because I owe it to you," explained the little fellow. The boy told Mr. Slocum of the loan made three months before, and made Mr. Slocum recall the transaction. Mr. Slocum asked him to have a seat. "Well, what did you do with that money?" asked Mr. Slocum. "Well," said the boy, "I was hard up when I called on you. Me and my ma had been selling papers for a living up to that time, but somehow we had got behind with our expenses. House rent was due, and we didn 't have nothing to eat. I had to find a friend somewhere. So, after trying two or three places where I was known and failing to get any help, I decided to drop in here and see you. You know the result. Well, I paid my rent for a week ; rented a little stand for my ma to sell papers on the corner, while I continued to hustle in the street. That five dollars you lent me give me good luck, and I Ve been going right up ever since. Me and ma are living in a better place now ; we Ve got a plenty to eat ; and we Ve got a plenty of fine A HOLD VENTURE. 117 customers. I told you when I came here before that I was nobody then, but I'm somebody now, Mr. Slocum, anyhow, I feel so and I want to thank you again for the help you gave me." The boy's story pleased Mr. Slocum very much. It is needless to say that he took an interest in that boy, and continued to befriend him. This happened many years ago. Today Tommy Tolliver that was the -boy's name is the Assist- ant General Manager of the Harlem Steamboat Company, and a very well-to-do man. Mr. Slocum says that there is nobody in the world like him. Tommy's mother died some years ago, but she lived long enough to see her little boy taken out of the streets, put to school, and started on his career of usefulness. THE EOAD TO SUCCESS. The world is constantly looking for the man who knows the most, and it pays little regard to those who are proficient in the usual degree in the same things. One must excel, or, in other words, know more than his associates in order to succeed notably. The world will bid high for you if you know more than other men. 118 THE ROAD TO SUCCESS. So that boys and girls who are preparing them- selves for the duties of life should not aim simply at being as good as somebody else, but they should aim at being the best that it is possible to be in any chosen line of life or business. I have noticed in my short life-time that there is a great tendency on the part of young people to cut short their education. Being able to shine in t h e intellectual THE ROAD TO SUCCESS. and social worlds with the small attainments made in some college or normal school or industrial school, the average young negro man is content to stop with a diploma or certificate from one or an- other of these institutions. They will never realize what injury they have done themselves by so doing until it is too late. On the other hand, there is another large class of young people that stop short even before they have finished the course in even any one of the normal or industrial schools. They must go out to work; they know enough to make a living; what's the use of so much educa- THE ROAD TO SUCCESS. 119 tion, anyhow? This is the way some of them talk. This is what some of them believe. Boys and girls, no man or woman with such low ideals will ever reach the topmost round of the ladder of fame. Suchjboys and girls will always play a second-rate part in the great drama of life. The boys and girls who are going to the front the boys and girls who are going to have the leading parts are the boys and girls who are willing to take time to prepare themselves. And prepara- tion means hard work ; and not only hard work, but hard and long-continued work. A person can learn a good deal in one year; a person can learn a good deal in two years; but nobody can learn enough in one or two years, or in three or four years, to make it at all likely that he will ever be sought by the great world. Aside from the rudimentary training, it ought to take at least ten years to make a good doctor, or a good lawyer, or a good electrician, or a good preacher. Four of these years ought to be spent in college; and four in the professional school; and the other two ought to be spent in picking up a practical or working knowledge of the calling- whatever it may be. The young doctor obtains this practical knowledge in hospitals and in prac- tice among the poor. The electrician obtains it by entering some large electrical industry or manu- factory, in which a thoroughly practical knowl- edge of mechanical engineering and electricity can be secured. It is true that some men have 120 EASTER MONDAY IN WASHINGTON. become distinguished in these callings without this long preparation of which I have spoken ; yet it is, also, true that* they would have been better off they would have been more likely to have become eminent if they had taken the longer course. College is a little world which every one, other things being equal, ought to enter and pass through before launching in the great world. KEEPING ONE'S ENGAGEMENTS. What would happen if everybody should begin tomorrow to keep all his promises and fulfill all his engagements! I think it would make a new world at once. There is great need that the atten- tion of young people should be called to the im- portance of keeping engagements. Much of the confusion and annoyance and trouble of this world would be done away with if people would learn to keep their promises. The oft-repeated excuse, ' i I forgot, ' ' is not reasonable. If the memory is in the habit of playing tricks with you, then you ought to make notes of your engagements, write them down in some way, so that you will not forget them. Arnold of Rugby said: "Thought- lessness is a crime, ' ' and he was right. The great KEEPING ONE'S ENGAGEMENTS. 121 Ruskin has also uttered strong words in con- demnation of thoughtlessness in youth. He said: "But what excuse can you find for willfulness of thought at the very time when every crisis of KEEPING ONE'S ENGAGEMENTS. future fortune hangs on your decisions! A youth thoughtless! when the career of all his days de- pends on the opportunity of a moment. A youth thoughtless! when his every act is a foundation- stone of future conduct, and every imagination a 122 KEEPING ONE'S ENGAGEMENTS. fountain of life or death. Be thoughtless in any after years rather than now, though, indeed, there is only one place where a man may be nobly thoughtless his deathbed. No thinking should ever be left to be done there." And, then, boys and girls should remember that promptness should always accompany the fulfill- ing of an engagement, otherwise the engagement is not really kept. A person 's time is a valuable possession, which should be respected by all. Who has not been exasperated by some one with appar- ent indifference keeping (?) an engagement a half or three-quarters of an hour late! And often a whole train of troubles will follow in the wake of tardiness. The punctual boy or girl in this life is the one who advances most rapidly. The punc- tual boy or girl will make a punctual man or woman. A promise-breaker, or one who is late in keeping his appointments, cannot in the true sense of the term be considered a first-class person. A MIDNIGHT MISHAP.* Uncle Ned returned from his 'possum hunt about midnight, bringing with him a fine, fat 'possum. He built a glowing fire, dressed the 'possum, pared and split the sweet potatoes, and pretty soon he had the " 'possum an' 'taters" in the oven. While *Published in Lippincott's. A MIDNIGHT MISHAP. 123 the meal was cooking Uncle Ned amused himself with his favorite old banjo. When the 'possum had been baked brown and crisp he took it out of the oven and set it on the hearth to give it time to cool. Mentally congratu- lating himself upon the glorious repast he thought soon to enjoy, he sat silently for awhile in the old armchair, but pres- ently he was snugly wrap- ped in the arms of " tired nature's sweet restorer balmy sleep. ' ' It happened that two young fellows who were pretty well acquainted with Uncle Ned's habits had been stealthily watch- ing about the house wait- ing this particular chance. As soon as they were con- vinced that the old man was safe in the arms of Morpheus, they crept into the house and hurriedly helped themselves to Uncle Ned's supper, includ- ing even the coffee and bread. When they fin- ished the hasty meal, by way of attempting to cover up their tracks, they smeared Uncle Ned's A MIDNIGHT MISHAP. 124 A MIDNIGHT MISHAP. hands and mouth with the 'possum gravy and then beat a retreat. After a time Uncle Ned aroused from his peace- ful slumber. It is needless to say that he had dreamed about his supper. At once he dived down to inspect the viands, when, lo and behold, the hearth was empty! Uncle Ned steadied himself and studied awhile. "Well," said he finally, "I must 'a' et dat 'pos- sum; I must 'a' et dat 'possum in my sleep!" He looked at his hands. They were greasy. He smelt his hands. As he did so he said: i i Dat smells like 'possum grease ! I sho must 'a ' et dat 'possum. ' ' He discovered grease on his lips. Out went his tongue. "Dat tas'es like 'possum grease," he said. He got up. He looked about the house. There was no sign of intruders. He rubbed his stomach. He resumed his seat, and, giving up all for lost, he said: ' t Well, ef I did eat dat 'possum, hit sets lightah on my appertite dan any 'possum I evah et bef o '. ' ' FREDEBICK DOUGLASS. In 1893 the World's Columbian Exposition, or World's Fair, was held in Chicago in commemora- tion of the four hundredth anniversary of the dis- covery of America. A negro man, the Hon. Fred- FREDERICK DOUGLASS. 125 erick Douglass, attended that exposition and de- livered an address on negro day. Speaking of this great man's visit the Advance, one of Chicago's great religious papers, -said: "It was fine to see at the Congress on Africa the tall form and magnificent head of the grand old man, Frederick Douglass, now seventy-five years of age, perfectly erect, kindly, majestic, the ' ancient fires of inspiration welling up through all his being yet'; affable to all; finding it still to be as natural to be eloquent as to speak at all ; sym- pathetic to the core with the people of his own race, yet none the less loyal to the common inter- ests of all the people of his country; neither blind to the obstacles in their path and the cruel social injustice and meanness to which they are often exposed, nor, on the other hand, unmindful of the friends they have in the South as also in the North, or above all to the over-shining care and purpose of God Himself, with the ' far-off divine intent ' that so clearly takes in the future of both the American and African continents. Few Ameri- cans have had a more conspicuously providential mission than Frederick Douglass. And hardly anything in this remarkable congress was more eloquent or more convincing than his personal presence. ' ' Frederick Douglass was born a slave, and his life as a slave was one of peculiar hardship. Of it he himself says in his autobiography: "I suffered little from any punishment I re- 126 FREDERICK DOUGLASS. ceived, except from hunger and cold. I could get enough neither of food or clothing, but .suffered more from cold than hunger. In the heat of sum- mer or the cold of winter alike, I was kept almost in a state of nudity no shoes, jackets, trousers, or stockings nothing but a coarse tow linen shirt reaching to the knee. That I wore night and day. In the day time I could protect myself by keeping on the sunny side of the house, and in bad weather in the corner of the kitchen chimney. The great difficulty was to keep warm at night. I had no bed. The pigs in the pen had leaves, and the horses in the stable had straw, but the children had nothing. In very cold weather I sometimes got down the bag in which corn was carried to the mill and got inter that. My feet have been so cracked by frost that the pen with which I am writing might have been laid in the gashes. ' ' With regard to his food he said that he often disputed with the dogs over the crumbs that fell from his master's table. Now this man, born so lowly and surrounded by such circumstances, turned out to be in the course of time by hard work and self-application one of the most influential American citizens and one of the greatest orators that this country has ever known. Among other high offices of trust and responsibility, he was once marshal of the District of Columbia, recorder of deeds of the Dis- trict of Columbia, and United States minister to Hayti. FEEDERICK DOUGLASS. 127 He died February 20th, 1895, at his home in Anacostia, D. C., at the age of seventy-seven years. A monument to his memory has been erected in Eochester, N. Y., where he once lived. What Frederick Douglass made of himself is possible for any American boy with grit. Every boy and girl in America should read the life of this pre-eminent negro and strive to emulate his virtues. His memory is worthy to be honored to the last day of time. OUR DUMB ANIMALS. Domestic animals like horses, cats and dogs seem to be almost as dependent upon kind treat- ment and affection as human beings. Horses and dogs especially are tlie most keenly intelligent of our dumb friends, and are alike sensitive to cruelty in any form. They are influenced to an equal degree by kind and affectionate treatment. If there is any form of cruelty that is more reprehensible than another, it is abuse of a faith- ful horse who has given his whole life to the serv- ice of the owner. When a horse is pulling a heavy load with all his might, doing the best ha can to move under it, to strike him, spur him, or swear at him is simply barbarous. To kick a dog around, to tie tin cans to his tail, or strike him with sticks, 128 OUR DUMB ANIMALS. just for the fun of hearing him yelp or seeing him run, is equally barbarous. No high-minded man, no high-minded boy or girl, would do guch a thing. We should never forget how helpless, in a large sense, dumb animals are and how absolutely de- pendent upon the humanity and kindness of their owners. They are really the slaves of man, having OUR DUMB ANIMALS. no language by which to express their feelings or needs. The poet Cowper said: ' ' I would not enter on my list of friends, Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility, the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm." Every boy and girl should be willing to pledge himself to be kind to all harmless living creatures, and every boy and girl should strive to protect OUR DUMB ANIMALS. 129 such creatures from cruel usage on the part of others. It is noble, boys and girls, for us to speak for those that cannot speak for themselves, and it is noble, also, for us to protect those that cannot protect themselves. A PLUCKY BOY. The boy marched straight up to the counter. "Well, my little man," said the merchant, "what can I do for you?" "If you please," said the boy, "I came in to see if you wouldn 't let me work for you. ' ' The boy was not yet ten years old, and he was small for his age. But there was something in his speech or manner that held the man's attention. "Do some work for me, eh?" said the man. "What kind of work could you do! You can hardly look over the counter. ' ' "Oh, yes; I can," said the little fellow, as he stood on tiptoe and peeped over the counter. Out of sheer curiosity the merchant came from behind the counter, so as to get a good look at the boy. "Oh," he said, "I see you've got copper taps on your shoes; I suppose your mother couldn't keep you in shoes if they didn't have taps on them!" 130 A PLUCKY BOY. "She can't keep me in shoes anyway, sir," and the little boy's voice hesitated. "How old are you?" asked the merchant. "I'm older than I look; folks say that I'm small for my age." "Well, what is your age!" "I'm going on ten," said Davie, with a look of great importance. "You see," he continued, "my mother hasn't anybody but me, and this morning I saw her crying because she could not find five cents in her pocketbook, and she thinks she must have lost it and it was the last cent that she had in the world; and I have not had any breakfast, sir." The voice again hesitated, and tears came into the little boy's eyes. "Oh, don't cry, my little man; I guess I can help you to a breakfast. Here, take this quarter!" He pulled a quarter from his vest pocket and handed it to the boy. The boy shook his head. "Mother wouldn't let me beg," was his simple answer. ' i Humph ! ' ' said the merchant. ' ' Where is your father!" "We never heard of him, sir, after he went away. He was lost in the steamer City of New York." ' ' That 's too bad. But you 're a plucky little fel- low, anyhow. Let me see, ' ' and he looked straight down into the boy's eyes, and the boy looked straight up at him. Turning to the head man, after awhile, the merchant said : A PLUCKY BOY. 131 11 Palmer, is cash boy No. 5 still sick?" "Dead, sir; died last night," was the reply. "I'm sorry; but here's a boy you might use. Put him down in No. 5's place. We'll try him for THE BOY MARCHED STRAIGHT UP TO THE COUNTER! awhile, anyhow. What's is your name, my little man?" he asked, turning again to the boy. "Davie Thomas." "Well, Davie, we'll give you three dollars a week to start with; you come tomorrow morning and I'll tell you what to do. Here's a dollar of your wages in advance. I'll take it out of your first week's pay. Do you understand?" 132 A PLUCKY BOY. "Yes, sir; I understand, and T thank you. too. I '11 be back in the morning. ' ' Davie shot out of the store, and lost no time in getting home. The old creaky steps in the old ram-shackle house fairly sang with delight as the weight of the little boy hurried up them. "I've got it, mother;-" exclaimed Davie. "I'm a cash boy! The man's going to give me three dollars a week, and he says I've got pluck, too; and here 's a dollar to get some breakfast with, and don't you cry any more, for I'm going to be the man of this house now. ' ' At first the mother was dumfounded; then she looked confused; and then she looked well, it passes my power to tell how she did look as she took Davie in her arrns and hugged him and kissed him, the tears streaming down her cheeks. But they were tears of joy and thankfulness! A HEAET-TO-HEAET TALK. "Henry, I asked you to remain after school a few minutes because I wanted you to help me re- arrange the desks and furniture, but I had an- other reason for asking you to remain, and I think it is more important than the one I have just stated." The desks had all been arranged according to A HEART-TO-HEART TALK. 133 the teacher's notion, and Henry Holt had gathered up his books to go home. It was then that his teacher, Miss Ada Johnson, addressed him. "Won/t you sit down here a minute, David?" she continued. "I wish to speak to you a min- ute or two." David quietly took a seat. He was one of the A HEART-TO-HEART TALK. largest boys in school, and had been giving an unusual amount of trouble during the day. In fact he had been a source of annoyance ever since the new teacher had taken charge. ' ' David, ' ' the teacher went on, " I wonder if you realize how hard you have made it for me in school today? Is there any reason why we cannot 134 A HEART-TO-HEART TALK. be friends and work together! And I wish to be a friend to you, if you will let me. You could help me so much and you could help your school- mates so much if you only would. I want to ask you if you think your conduct has been manly to- day ? Has it been kind f ' ' David said nothing, but hung his head. "I heard before I came here that you were an unruly boy. People say that you will neither study nor work, and some people say that you are a very mean boy. Some of these things may be true, David, I am sorry to say, but I want to tell you that you are the only hope of a widowed mother, and I want to say, also, that I think that you are breaking her heart." The teacher's voice faltered at the last words. "I know that your father," the low voice went on, ' ' was a brave and noble man ; and when I hear people say, 'It is a good thing that Henry Oliver died before he knew what his son was coming to, ' I think what a pity it is that they cannot say, 'How sad it is that Henry Oliver died before he could know what a fine, manly fellow his son would be, and what a stay and comfort to his mother 7 ." The boy's head dropped to the desk in front of him, and he began to sob. The teacher went over to him and said gently: "You can be all this. It is in your power to be all that your father would have you, all that your mother would have you. "Will you not turn A HEART-TO-HEART TALK. 135 over a new leaf now, not only in yonr behavior and work in school, but in your whole life as well!" David raised his head. "I am with you I'll do it, teacher," he replied, a new resolve shining in his face. All that day he did some of the most serious thinking of his life. And he kept his promise. The years have been many since then. The lit- tle teacher has long since passed to her rest, but David Oliver is a living monument to the power of a few searching words, the potency of a little personal interest and kindliness manifested at a critical time. A GHOST STORY. Uncle Mose, an old-time colored man, once said in a company of people who were talking about ghosts that he wasn 't afraid of any ghost that ever walked the earth. "No, sah; not me," he said; "I'se got my fuss time to be skeered uv anyt 'ing dat 's dead. ' ' Whereupon Noah Johnson told Uncle Mose that he would bet him a load of watermelons that he couldn't spend one night in the "Widder Smith's house. ' ' Now, the Widow Smith 's house was said to be haunted, or, in other words, it was filled with ghosts. 136 A GHOST STORY. "Des name de night/ 7 said Uncle Mose. "Fll stay dar; no ha'nts won't bodder wid nie. No, sah; no ha'nts won't bodder wid me, an' yo' watermil- lions is des ez good ez gone already ! ' ' The details were arranged ; judges were appoint- ed; and Uncle Mose was to stay in the" haunted "Hun! Hun! THERE DON'T SEEM TO BE BUT Two OP Us HEBE TO-NIGHT." house that very night. He got him some pine- knots to keep a good blaze in the old-fashioned fireplace, carried along an extra plug of tobacco, secured a large drygoods box to be used for a chair, and then he set out for the house. He made a blaze and seated himself on the pine box. For a time he sung a number of old planta- A GHOST STORY. 137 B tion songs for his own amusement, as well as to keep him company. About midnight, feeling some- what drowsy, Uncle Mose got up, took a light and went on a tour of inspection. He examined every room in the house. His search revealed nothing unusual. He wound up his search chuck- ling to himself: "I sho is makin' dis load uv watermillions easy. Noah Johnsing didn't know who he's foolin' wid. I'm a man myse'f; I ain't af eared uv nothin' I ain't!" Down he sat on the box, and pretty soon he was dozing. It was not very long before he suddenly awoke. He was at once seized with strange and sudden fear. He was too frightened to move. Al- though he did not look around, he was conscious that there was another presence in the room. His hair stood on ends. He felt a cold chill run up and down his back. By that time he knew that the object in the room, whatever it was, was moving towards him. Still he did not move, because he could not. The ghost (for that was what all the people said it was) stood over Uncle Mose for a little while, and then quietly sat down on the box beside him. Uncle Mose looked straight into the fireplace, but his heart was beating like a runaway horse. The silence in the room at that moment was like unto the silence of death. Everything was still and solemn. Uncle Mose could almost hear his own heart beating. The ghost finally broke the silence by saying, with a loud sigh: 138 A GHOST STORY. "Huh! Huh! There don't seem to be but two of us here tonight !" It was then that Uncle Mose looked around for the first time. As he did so he exclaimed: "Yas; an' f 'urn dis out dah won't be but one!" And with that he jumped through the window, taking a part of the sash with him. The judges had been waiting in the open air near the house, so as to watch the proceedings. They called to the fleeing Uncle Mose, as he passed them, and ordered him to stop. They said that they were all there and would protect him. But Uncle Mose, as he kept on running, hallooed back: 4 'I'll see y 'all later!" He ran at the top of his speed for more than a mile, for he was well nigh scared to death. By- and-by, from sheer exhaustion, he was compelled to stop for a little rest. He was wet with perspira- tion from head to foot, and his clothes were as limp as a wet dishrag. But the poor old man had no sooner seated himself on a stone by the road- side than up jumps the ghost and sits down beside him once more. "Huh!" said the ghost. "You seem to have made pretty good time tonight." * ' Yas, ' ' said Uncle Mose ; ' l but what I hase done ain't nothin' to what I'se gwinter do!" And up he jumped and lit out once more. He had not gone far on his second trip before an old rabbit ran out of the bushes and took out down A GHOST STORY. 139 the road ahead of him. Uncle Mose hallooed at the rabbit and said: "Git out uv de way, rabbit, an' let somebody run what kin run ! ' ' On and on the poor old man, almost scared to death, ran and ran. Perhaps he would have been running until now but for a very unfortunate ac- cident. About five miles from the Widow Smith 's house he came in contact with the limb of a weep- ing willow tree that hung across the road. The poor old fellow, already tired out, was knocked speechless and senseless. Toward the break of day the judges, who had followed him, found him ly- ing on the ground doubled up near the tree. Dim consciousness was slowly returning when they picked him up. They rubbed him, and walked him around for a little while, and soon he was able to move himself. The first thing Uncle Mose said was : "Tell Noah not to min' ''bout dem watermil- lions. I stayed in dat house des ez long ez I could keep my conscience quiet. My ole mammy allus tole me dat hit wuz a sin an' a shame to bet, an' now I b'lieves hit!" And to this day, boys and girls, if you want to see a really mad man, you just ask Uncle Mose if he ever saw a ghost. GOOD CHEER. Everybody loves the cheerful boy or girl, the cheerful man or woman; and everybody ought to love such people. I wish all the boys and girls in America would organize one grand SUNSHINE SOCIETY, whose chief object should be the pro- motion of good feeling, good cheer, peace and hap- piness among all the people everywhere. But, first, a boy or girl, man or woman, must have sunshine in their own souls before they can communicate sunshine to others. And, boys and girls, it would greatly assist us in securing sunshine in our souls if we looked at our mercies with both eyes, as I might say, and at our troubles and trials with only one eye. What we enjoy in this world is always a good deal more than that which we do not enjoy; but we do not magnify our blessings sufficiently. We do not make as much of them as we ought. We do not rejoice because of them as we ought. We ought to keep daily a record of God's good- ness and kindness and patience and love. The Lord's mercies are new every morning and fresh every evening; but we do not realize that they are so, because we do not stop to count them up ; we do not think about them. If we stopped to weigh the matter I think we should find more in our lives to be happy about than to be sorry about. Our 141 142 GOOD CHEER. good fortunes always outweigh our misfortunes; and we should find it so if we only acquired the habit of remembering God's goodness to us as well as the disappointments and sorrows and afflic- tions which are for us all. Then we should study contentment. We should study to be content. We must cultivate the habit of being satisfied with what we have at present, and we should not worry about those things which we do not possess. Worry because of things they did not possess has made countless thousands mourn. Let us enjoy what we have. Let us make the most of what we have. And let us not worry about things which we do not possess. No mat- ter how miserable our own lot may be, there is always some one whose lot is more miserable still. Worry kills more people than work. In fact worry unfits a man for work. The man who has learned the philosophy of being content in whatsoever state he is is the man who is and will be happy. One of the things in this world that pays a hun- dred-fold is contentment, and there is nothing that casts so much blight and mildew upon life's fair- est flowers as discontent. Again, it would help us to keep cheerful if we kept steadily engaged in some work of usefulness. Let us go about doing good. Let us go about seeking opportunities of doing good. Doing good makes the heart healthy, and heart-health makes sunshine, happiness and good cheer. A little thought will convince you, boys and GOOD CHEER. 143 girls, that your own happiness in this world de- pends very largely on the way other people bear themselves toward you. The looks and tones at your breakfast table, the conduct of your play- mates, the faithful or unreliable people that you deal with, what people say to you on the street, the letters you get, the friends or foes you meet these things make up very much of the pleasurs or misery of your day. Turn the thought around, and remember that just so much are you adding to the pleasure or misery of other people 's days. And this is the half of the matter that you can con- trol. Whether any particular day shall bring to you more of happiness or of suffering is largely beyond your power to determine. Whether each day of your life shall give happiness or suffering to others rests with yourself. And there is where the test of character comes. We must be continu- ally sacrificing our wills to the wills of others, bearing without notice sights and sounds that an- noy us, setting about this or that task when we would rather be doing something else, persever- ing in it often when we are very tired of it, keep- ing company for duty's sake when it would be a great joy to us to be by ourselves; and then there are all the trifling and outward accidents of life, bodily pain and weakness, it may be, long continued, losing what we value, missing what we desire, deceit, ingratitude and treachery where we least expected them; folly, rashness and willful- ness in ourselves. All these little worries which 144 GOOD CHEER. we meet each day may lie as stumbling blocks across our way, or we may make of them, if we choose, stepping stones of grace. I want all the little boys and girls who read this book to be joy-makers, to be burden-bearers, to be among those who shall assist in filling the whole world with good cheer. It is our duty to cheer and comfort others; it is our duty to make the world not only better but happier happier be- cause better for our having lived in it. To all the other beatitudes might well be added this one : Blessed are the cheerful people, for they shall in- inherit the earth. LIFE A BATTLE. Boys and girls, I want to repeat to you now some words which were delivered long ago by the Hon. Schuyler Colfax, a man who was once the vice-president of the United States. These words are wholesome, and should be read and considered by parents and school teachers and by children themselves all over our land: 11 Above all things, teach children what their life is. It is not breathing, moving, playing, sleep- ing, simply. Life is a battle. All thoughtful peo- ple see it so. A battle between good and evil from childhood. Good influences, drawing us up toward LIFE A BATTLE. 145 the divine ; bad influences, drawing us down to the brute. Midway we stand, between the divine and the brute. How to cultivate the good side of the nature is the greatest lesson of life to teach. Teach children that they lead these two lives: the life without and the life within; and that the inside must be pure in the sight of God as well as the outside in the sight of men. " There are five means of learning. These are: Observation, reading, conversation, memory, re- flection. "Educators sometimes, in their anxiety to se- cure a wide range of studies, do not sufficiently impress upon their scholars the value of memory. Now, our memory is one of the most valuable gifts God has bestowed upon us, and one of the most mysterious. Take a tumbler and pour water into it; by-and-by you can pour no more: it is full. It is not so with the mind. You cannot fill it full of knowledge in a whole lifetime. Pour in all you please, and it still thirsts for more. "Kemember this: "Knowledge is not what you learn, but what you remember. "It is not what you eat, but what you digest, that makes you grow. "It is not the money you handle, but that you keep, that makes you rich. " It is not what you study, but what you re- member and reflect upon, that makes you learned. "One more suggestion: 146 LIFE A BATTLE. 1 Above all things else, strive to fit the children in your charge to be useful men and women; men and women you may be proud of in after-life. While they are young teach them that far above physical courage, which will lead them to face the cannon's mouth; above wealth, which would give them farms and houses and bank stocks and gold; is moral courage that courage by which they will stand fearlessly, frankly, firmly for the right. Every man or woman who dares to stand for the right when evil has its legions, is the true moral victor in this life and in the land beyond the stars. " These brave and true words were spoken by Mr. Coif ax long years ago. They were true then; they are no less true now. Every boy in America should treasure them in his heart. Every girl in America should commit them to memory and make them the rule of her life. Mothers and fathers, school teachers and preachers, and all who have the care of the young in any way would do well to study these wise counsels and reflect upon them and strive to impress upon those for whom tliey are laboring. If you would win the victory in the battle of life, my young friends, you must watch the little things. It is said that there is a barn upon the Alleghany Mountains so built that the rain which falls upon it separates in such a manner that that which falls upon one side of the roof runs into a little stream that flows into the Susquehanna LIFE A BATTLE. 147 and thence into Chesapeake Bay and on into the Atlantic Ocean; that which falls upon the other side is carried into the Alleghany Eiver, thence into the Ohio, and onward to the Gulf of Mexico. The point where the waters divide is very small, but how different the course of these waters ! So it is with people, young or old. A very little thing changes the channel of their lives. Much will depend upon the kinds of tempers you have, boys and girls. If you are sour and cross, and crabbed, no one will love you. If you are kind and cheerful, you will have friends wherever you go. Much will depend upon the way in which you improve your school days; upon the kind of com- panions you have; and upon the kind of habits you form. If you would win a great victory in fighting the battle of life you must look well to the little things. AN IDLE BOY. An idle boy one idle day Played with a gun in an idle way :- And now the grasses idly wave Above his idle little grave. HUNTING AN EASY PLACE. A nicely dressed young man, fifteen or sixteen years old, who had just finished his course in the high school, stepped into the office of the president of the Smutville Short Line Eailroad. "Well," said the president, looking up from a mass of correspondence, "what can I do for you, sir?" "I have just finished my course in the high school," the young man began nervously, "and I thought that I might be able to secure a desirable position with your company. I came in to talk with you about it." The president asked the young man to have a seat. "So," said the president, "you want a desirable place, eh?" "I do, sir," said the young man, his heart beat- ing high with hope. "A place," continued the president, "that would pay you something like a hundred dollars a month?" 149 150 HUNTING AN EASY PLACE, ' i Something like that/ 7 said the young man eagerly. "I guess you would like it very well, too, if I could arrange it so that you could report f or_work at nine o'clock in the mornings and get off every afternoon at three or four o 'clock. In other words, you want something easy. I can see by looking at you that you are not accustomed to hard work, and you could not fill a place that required you to report at six o'clock every morning and work un- til six every afternoon. Do I size you up correct- ly?" "I think so, sir," was the reply. "In plain English then, you are looking for a soft place with the Short Line!" "I am, sir." ' ' Well, sir, ' ' said the president, smiling for the first time, "I regret to inform you that there is only one such place on our railroad. I occupy that place myself, and I am not thinking of resigning. ' ' The young man's face flushed. The president continued: "I hope you will not think that it is going beyond what is right and proper for me to say, but I must tell you, young man, that you have started out in life with the wrong notion. No brave and strong young man is going about looking for an easy place. The brave and true man asks only for work. And the men who are occupying what you call the easy places in this life today are the men who have climbed into them by hard work. You are very much mis- HUNTING AN EASY PLACE. 151 taken if you think that they have stepped into them from the high school. In fact, and you'll find it out soon enough for yourself, there are really no soft or easy places in this world, and the "I HAVE JUST FINISHED MY COURSE IN THE HIGH SCHOOL." man who goes about seeking such places stamps himself at once as a failure. Nobody will ever em- ploy such a boy, and such a boy would be no good if he were employed. Let me, as a friend, advise you, young man, that the next place you go to to 152 HUNTING AN EASY PLACE. apply for a job, you ask for a chance to begin at the bottom. If it happens to be a railroad, ask to be given a chance to do anything firing an en- gine, or cleaning cars, or laboring in the round- house. Be willing to begin low down in the busi- ness, and, if you're made out of the right stuff, you will fight your way to the front. I started in with the Short Line as a day laborer myself, and if I had not done so I would not be at its head today. You advertise your own folly when you go and ask a sensible business man to put you at the start at the head of something. You must be- gin at the bottom and work up to the top. That is the rule everywhere, and you will not, I am sure, prove an exception to it." Let us hope, boys and girls, that this young man left the president's office a wiser young man. Be sure not to follow his example. Don't go around hunting for easy places. AT THE ZOO. Father and son, making the rounds of the Zoological gardens, paused before a cage contain- ing a beautiful zebra. "Oh, papa," exclaimed the little boy, "see that donkey with a baseball sweater on!" THE BIG BLACK BUEGLAE. One cold winter night, about midnight, my good wife called to me, saying : "Dan! Dan! Get up! Get up!" "What's the matter?" I asked, with much alarm. "Somebody's in the dining-room; I heard them rattling the dishes just a minute ago." "I don't hear anything, wife," I said slowly. "There's somebody in these sure; I heard them myself. Do get up, Dan, before they take every- thing we've got." "I haven't got a gun or any kind of weapon," I said, still fighting for time. "Well, get up and make a noise walk around heavy that's frighten 'em and make 'em leave." 153 154 - THE BIG BLACK BURGLAR. I got up quietly, turned up the lamp, and looked about me with a sigh. ' * Be quick, ' ' said my wife. "In a minute, " said I. I tipped around to the wall on the side of the bed, and took down an old iron sword, which had done duty in the Mexican war, and which we had preserved as an heirloom. " Hurry, hurry, Dan!" said my wife. "All right, " I said with meekness. I took the sword in one hand and the lamp in the other, and moved gently toward the door, which opened from our bed-room into the dining- room. Pausing at the door, I said, < < Hallo! Hallo, in there!" The response came from my wife in bed. "Open fhe door, Dan; open the door!" Humbly I placed the lamp on the floor close by the door, caught a tight grip on my old war-piece, and then quickly shoved the door wide open. I intended, of course, after getting my bearings, to pick up the lamp and enter the dining-room on a tour of inspection. But, I assure you, there was no time for any such careful procedure. As soon as the door was opened and the light went stream- ing into the dining-room, something fell to the floor with a terrible thud, and quicker than it takes to tell it a great big black something, that looked to me like a buffalo or elephant, came bounding toward me. It was all so sudden that it THE BIG BLACK BURGLAR. 155 surprised me, and I fell back trembling. Over went the lamp. It broke. Out came the oil. It took fire, and pretty soon the Cambrequin close by took fire. Down I snatched it. I reached for the first thing handy, and tried to smother the fire on the floor. In doing so, I stepped on a piece of glass and cut my foot. I burnt my hands terribly. My night shirt caught on fire. I ran to the bed and sat down in order to quench the blaze. This shows I still had some presence of mind left, al- though, as a matter of fact, this new ex- tinguishing process scorched my legs awfully. When all was quiet again, and I lit another lamp in order to take an in- ventory, my bedroom was a sight to behold! I found that in the struggle, my old army sword had been plunged amidship into the hand- some mirror of our dresser, and had also made havoc of a reproduction of Millets' Angelus. HUNTING THE BURGLAR. 156 THE BIG BLACK BUEGLAE. I discovered, also, that I had used iny brand-new $50 overcoat to extinguish the fire, and that many of the handsome photos of our friends that stood on the mantle had been ruined. Alto- gether that one night's experience cost me in the neighborhood of $100, not to mention my own per- sonal injuries. It was a terrible night, I tell you. And far off in one corner, I saw, crouching in abject fear, the cause of all my troubles the burly black burglar. And what do you think it was ? It was nothing in the world but an old black Tom Cat, who had been a member of our family for many years ! PIN-MONEY MADE WITH THE NEEDLE. Surely all young girls ought to know how to sew, and, not only sew, but all girls, I think, ought to love the purely feminine occupation of sewing. Since I am sure that many of the little girls who will read this book know how to sew, I am going to tell you about some little sewing that my wife did. In 1913 the Ladies' Home Journal, of Phila- delphia, offered a prize of fifty dollars for the best way to make pin-money at home. You know, PIN-MONEY MADE WITH NEEDLE. 157 girls, that put-money means pocket change or spending money. Many hundreds of women all over the world sent in suggestions to the Ladies' Home Journal, each one hoping, I am sure, that her suggestion would win first prize. The follow- ing letter sent to my wife will tell you just how her suggestion was received: "THE LADIES' HOME JOUENAL, "Philadelphia. February 5, 1913. "Dear Madam: "It gives me much pleasure to tell you that among the hundreds of letters received in response to the offer made in our January magazine in con- nection with The Editor's Want-Box, Mr. Bok has chosen your offering as the one entitled to the first prize of fifty dollars. He congratulates you upon your success and thanks you for the interest you have shown. "Our Treasurer will send you a check within a week. Very truly yours, "Wm. V. Alexander, "Managing Editor. "Mrs. Ella Floyd. " The check came all right, girls, and my wife thought, as she said to me, that in winning the prize she had found a new way to make pin-money that is, by telling others how to make pin-money at home. Two hundred of the little articles were after- wards published from time to time in The Ladies' Home Journal. The first article of the series ap- 158 PIN-MONEY MADE WITH NEEDLE. peared in the magazine for January, 1914, and my wife's little story, which won first money, was at the head of the list. I am going to give here the whole of the little article, as published in The Ladies' Home Journal. Of course, I am proud that she won the prize, and I hope other young ladies by-and-by may be the happy winners in such contests. And here is the article : "When one's pin-money is all gone but twenty- five cents the question comes as to the way to replenish it. One day when I found that I had only that amount I invested it as follows: 1 yard of lawn .10 1 yard of lace 10 1 spool of cotton 05 .25 "The same day I made three baby caps as daintily as I could with these materials. The next day I sold them for twenty-five cents each, and then I had seventy-five cents. I then bought 1 yard of lawn 15 2y 2 yards of lace 25 2 yards of ribbon 25 2 tiny buckles 05 1 spool of cotton 05 .75 "With these materials I made two baby caps, somewhat larger than the first ones, and trimmed PIN MONEY MADE WITH NEEDLE. 159 more prettily. I found no trouble in selling them for $1.50. Straightway I invested the sum in lawn, lace, ribbon, etc., and as I had done so well with the caps I thought I would try my hand on PIN MONEY MADE WITH THE NEEDLE. little bonnets. I made two. A friend offered me $5 for them before they were finished. I accepted 160 PIN-MONEY MADE WITH NEEDLE. her offer and from that day to this I have never been troubled about pin-money. "In four weeks' time I made and sold twenty caps and eleven bonnets. The material for the caps cost me $2.50 twelve -and a half cents for each. I sold them for twenty-five cents each. The material for the bonnets cost me $8.25, or seventy- five cents each. I sold them for $2.50 each. So I netted $21.75 for my work. The time which I devoted to this enterprise was that which ordi- narily I would have used in calling or in running up bills for my husband to pay. "Since the first four weeks of which I have spoken in detail I have made more expensive caps and bonnets for babies from six months to about three years old. The last one I made was of silk, beautifully trimmed, tucked and hemstitched. I sold it for $6, making a clear profit of $3. My husband says I'll soon be in position to organize a trust. " SELF-HELP. If there is one idea for which more than any other the public school system should stand, it is the idea of self-help. Self-help is the best kind of help in the world, and one cannot learn this lesson too early in life. Even little children three, four, five, six and eight years old should be taught to work. Any little child is just as capable of doing the little things in work as he is in play. Why 162 SELF-HELP. should not the little girl be taught to trim and wash the dress of her doll! Why should not the little children be taught to sweep up the dirt that they have scattered in play! Why should they not be taught to remove the dishes from the table, brush up the crumbs, set back the chairs, pick up chips, put the kindling wood in its place, bring the potatoes in from the garden, help to pick over the berries, and so forth! We might argue this question from now until doom's day, and nobody, I think, would be able to give any good reason why children should not be taught to do the little things. Little children who are accustomed to hav- ing everything done for them by others are very soon beset with the rust of laziness and the canker of pride. Whereas, on the other hand, if children are taught to help themselves as soon as and as much as they are able, it will tend to improve their faculties, and will, at the same time, have a good influence upon their dispositions. Childhood and youth are periods of life which materially influence all of its following periods, and whether the earlier years of one's life be passed in idleness and indolence, or in well- directed industry, is a point on which greatly de- pends the worth or the worthlessness of human character. Where is the man who guides his affairs with discretion, or the woman that looketh well to the ways of her household, and yet was not in some measure imbued with industrious and provident habits in early life! On the other hand, SELF-HELP. 163 who that has been treated until the age of fifteen or twenty like a helpless infant, and had every WASHING DOLLIES' CLOTHES. want supplied without being put to the necessity of either mental or bodily exertion, was ever good for anything afterwards? 164 SELF-HELP. The tendency of the age is by far too much in the direction of keeping our young boys solely for the purpose of loafing about the streets, or stand- ing around the soda fountains on Sunday and our young girls for parties, social entertainments, picnics, excursions and the like. So that by the time our boys and girls reach manhood and womanhood, they despise honest labor and are afraid to engage in real hard work. A young woman may know how to read and write may understand grammar, history, and geography may sing sweetly and play the piano well; but, whatever else she may know or may not know, if she does not know how to bake a hoe-cake of bread, make her little brother or sister a pair of pants or a plain dress, she is only half educated. In fact, every young woman should not only know how to perform every duty connected with a household, but every young woman should take some part in household work. No girl need tell me that she really loves her mother if she is will- ing to leave to her mother the work of washing the dishes, sweeping and scouring .the floors, car- ing for the little children, doing the Monday wash- ings, the house cleaning, and the like, while she devotes herself to pleasure, novel reading, social calling, butterfly parties, or playing rag-time music or singing rag-time songs v The home and the public school are the two great agencies which are jointly engaged, or which should be jointly engage^ in teaching children to At MING AT SOMETHING. iG5 help themselves. If children are taught, as boys and girls, to think for themselves, speak for them- selves and act for themselves, when they are old they will not forget the precious lesson, and will be less likely to become burdens on the com- munity. The highest ambition of every American man and woman should be to be of some useful service to the world; and the first step will be taken toward this noble end when we have thor- oughly learned the value and importance of the lesson of self-help. First, learn to help yourself, and then you will be able to see more clearly how to help others. AIMING AT SOMETHING. It is true, boys and girls, that it is what you hit, not what you aim at, that counts ; but, neverthe- less, it is a very important thing to take the right aim. The man who aims deliberately at the center of the target stands a better chance, a hundred to one, than the man who shoots without taking aim. So, in life, that boy or girl who has a purpose who is aiming at something will be more success- ful than those boys and girls who have no plans and who aim at nothing. It is not sufficient, in the moral world, to aim at something, but every boy and girl should aim at the best things. The best and highest things in this world are the unseen things, the eternal things, the things that will last forever. Money is a good thing, but there is something higher than money. A high position in the business or professional or political world is a good thing, but there is some- 166 AIMING AT SOMETHING. tiling higher and better than office and position. Character is the grandest, the highest and best thing in this world. We include in this one little word " character" a world of things. Honor, up- rightness, speak- ing the truth, deal- ing fairly with people, be- ing willing to help the lowly and unfortunate, paying your debts prompt- ly, these things, and many other things like them, are included in the one word "character." And these are the things that are worth while in this world. These are the things that every boy and girl should aim at. It may not be possible for every boy and girl to become a millionaire; it may not be possible for every boy and girl to fill high offices in this world, or AIMING AT SOMETHING. AIMING AT SOMETHING. 167 succeed in large business enterprises; but one thing is certain : every boy can be a good and true boy, every girl can be a noble and beautiful girl. Beautiful as to conduct, as to words and deeds, I mean. Good boys are the fathers of good men. Pure girls are the mothers of pure women. For, what, after all, is a boy? And what is a girl? What is a man? What is a woman? I will tell you. A boy is a little man that's all; and a man is a grown-up boy. A girl is a little woman that 's all ; and a woman is a grown-up girl. It is important, then, that boys and girls should aim at the right things, the good, the true and noble things early in life. What boys and girls aim at, in nine cases out of ten, they will reach as men and women. And to help you in taking the proper aim early in life, I am going to give you something to aim at. Let every boy and girl make this little motto his rule of life: Know something know it well; Do something do it well; And be Somebody! "THE BLACK SHEEP" OF THE REYNOLDS FAMILY. Will Reynolds was "the black sheep" of the Reynolds family. He knew it and felt it, because he had been frequently slighted and treated with 168 "THE BLACK SHEEP." contempt by his relatives. The only person who never lost faith in him was his mother. She always felt that there was something good in her wayward son, and often said that it would show itself some day. But Will's mother died in the early stages of his backslidings. Will's father married the second time, and the boy, finding it impossible to get along with his stepmother, left home. He went from bad to worse. Being arrested on the charge of drunkenness and va- grancy, he sent to his two brothers, who were pros- perous brokers in D. St., asking them to pay his fine. Word came back that they would not inter- fere in his behalf. His brothers sent word that he had brought the trouble upon himself and he must get out of it the best way he could. Will was sent to the Work House for six months. And nobody's hand was raised to help him. While he was serving his time, his only sister, a young woman not yet grown, died. He knew nothing of it until about a month after it occurred, and then he read the account in an old newspaper which he had borrowed from a fellow prisoner. The news of his sister 's death deeply affected him. His sentence was shortened by one month on ac- count of his good behaviour. The first thing he jdid, on coming to the city, was to visit the family lot in Myrtle Hill Cemetery. He carried with him some wild flowers and green leaves, being too poor to purchase a floral offering from the dealers in such things. With uncovered head, he knelt and "THE BLACK SHEEP.' 169 placed these tokens of respect on the graves of his mother and sister. This done, he stood in silence for a moment, and then wept like a little child. While riveted to the spot, he made a solemn vow HE CARRIED WITH HIM SOME NICE FLOWERS. that he would quit the old life and make a man of himself. "It's in me," he said to himself, I'm going to prove it," 170 "THE BLACK SHEEP. " Slowly he turned away from the sacred place. He went directly to the offices of his brothers. He had been furnished with a new suit of clothes, according to custom, upon leaving prison, and so made quite a decent appearance. He found his oldest brother, John B. Eeynolds, seated at a desk in the front office. He entered at once and said, "Well, John, I suppose sister is dead?" "How dare you," exclaimed John, rising to his feet, "how dare you to speak of Annie as your sister, you jailbird, you miserable convict! Get out of here this minute ! Leave this room at once, and never set foot in it again ! ' ' There was fire in the man's eye as he spoke. Will attempted to speak, but was not permitted. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he left the room. He had gone to tell of his new determina- tion and ask for another chance, and this was the reception which he met. On his way down the steps, he came face to face with his other brother, Thomas Eeynolds. Thomas tried to pass without speaking, but Will intercepted him. "Tom," he said, "I'm your brother still. I'm not asking help now; I only came to tell you that I'm going to do better. I thought you would be glad to hear it. ' ' "I want to hear nothing from you," said Thomas. "You've disgraced us forever, and you can go your way; we don't want anything to do with you; we don't want to see you again!" Will went forth into the street weeping. "THE BLACK SHEEP." 171 Thirty years have come and gone since Will was driven away from the offices of his brothers. What changes have these years worked! Soon after leaving prison W^ill was a constant visitor at the Kailroad Men's Branch of the Y. M. C. A. Through the Secretary of the Association, lie soon secured a place as a day laborer in the machine shops of the Big Bend Railroad. After securing regular employment, he went to live in the Y. M. 0. A. building. At the close of his first year's service with the railroad, he was promoted from a common laborer and made an apprentice. After four or five years, he had learned the trade and was receiving the daily wages of a machinist. After twelve years with the company, he was made the Master Machinist. At the end of fifteen years' service, he was made Superintendent of Construction. Five years later he was made a Division Superintendent. At the expiration of more than twenty-five years of faithful service, Will Reynolds was able to write after his name, "General Manager of the Big Bend Railroad." He had, also, been married for several years, and was the father of five children. Will's father and brothers lost sight of him for nearly twelve years, or until the papers announced his appointment as Master Machinist of the Big Bend Railroad. They suddenly awoke to find that their conclusions that he had probably long since died a drunkard's death, or had gone off as a 172 "THE BLACK SHEEP." tramp and had been killed, or was again serving a sentence in prison somewhere were wrong. The same week that Will was made Superin- tendent of Construction of the Big Bend Railroad, the newspapers spread all over the country the news that Col. Oliver P. Beynolds had committed suicide. According to their way, the newspapers gave all the sickening details of the tragedy, to- gether with the whole family history. They said that Col. Reynolds had been driven to suicide by his wife. They said that she was much younger than he ; that she was extravagant ; that she was a leader in gay society; they told how, on her account, Col. Reynolds had driven his son away from home fifteen years before ; they declared that the old man's life had been a hell to him; and that his wife had brought him almost to the verge of bankruptcy, and, in order to escape facing open disgrace, he had murdered himself. When Will heard of his father's death, he hast- ened at once to the city, but was denied admission to the family residence, and had to attend the funeral in the little church around the corner not as a member of the family but merely as an out- sider. We are not concerned in this story with the fate of Will's stepmother. But, as to Will's brothers, -well, the crash came eight or ten years after the death of Col. Reynolds, or a short while before Will became the General Manager of the Big Bend Railroad. John B. Reynolds and Thomas Reyn- "THE BLACK SHEEP." 173 olds, members of the firm of John B. Eeynolds & Bro., had been arrested and placed in the Tombs, charged with misappropriating $175,000 of trust JOHN, I SUPPOSE SISTER Is DEAD?" funds. Again the family history was rehearsed In the newspapers. The papers did not fail to recall the suicide of Col Reynolds, nor