The Tar Baby and the Tomahawk: Race and Ethnic Images in American Children's Literature, 1880-1939

flo.1922.2010.018.jpg [illustration - STATE, WAR AND NAVY BUILDING, WASHINGTON Most remarkable Office Building in the world. Right next door to the White House. Built of solid American Granite with over 500 rooms and over two miles of marble halls. ]
flo.1922.2010.019.jpg [illustration - PRIZE WINNERS Their Mother's Pets Copyright Underwood & Underwood ]
flo.1922.2010.020.jpg [illustration - SUNSHINE SAMMY Eight-year-old Sammy of moving picture fame is here seen leaving his motorcycle for the studio where he will "play for the world." Though only a child he has attracted world-wide interest and admiration. Copyright Underwood & Underwood ]
flo.1922.2010.021.jpg [illustration - "GREAT HEAVENS, THE BRUTE IS MAD," GASPED EVANS.]
flo.1922.2010.043.jpg

THE MAKING OF A MAN.*

Mr. Stamps, seated near the table, was glancing 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 precocious 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 everything?"

"Yes, my son; the Lord made everything."

"And did he make everybody?"

*Published in the Voice of the Negro.
flo.1922.2010.044.jpg

"Yes; the Lord made everybody."

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,

[illustration - 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 nonplused 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
flo.1922.2010.045.jpg 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, we've 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 looking for his man. He looked under the house; he looked in the stable; he went up to the garret; he walked 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.
flo.1922.2010.046.jpg 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 embarrassed. The man was evidently pleased, although, to be sure, he himself was not. quite certain 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 earnest, "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
flo.1922.2010.047.jpg 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?"

flo.1922.2010.145.jpg [illustration - A GROUP OF HAPPY SCHOOL CHILDREN IN THE SUNNY SOUTH.]
flo.1922.2010.153.jpg [illustration - ON ONE OF NEW YORK'S MANY PLAYGROUNDS.]

THE BIG BLACK- BURGLAR.

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 everything 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."

flo.1922.2010.159.jpg

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 diningroom.

Pausing at the door, I said,--
"Hallo! Hallo, in there!"

The response came from my wife in bed.

"Open the 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 may 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 streaming 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
flo.1922.2010.160.jpg surprised me, and I fell back trembling. Over went the lamp. It broke. Out came the oil. It took fire, and pretty soon the Lambrequin 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, although, as a matter of fact, this new extinguishing process scorched my legs awfully.

[illustration - Hunting the Burglar ]

When all was quiet again, and I lit another lamp in order to take an inventory, 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 hall also made havoc of a reproduction of Millets' Angelus.
flo.1922.2010.161.jpg I discovered, also, that I had used my 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. Altogether that one night's experience cost me in the neighborhood of $100, not to mention my own personal 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 Philadelphia, offered a prize of fifty dollars for the best way to make pin-money at home. You know,
flo.1922.2010.162.jpg girls, that pin-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 following letter sent to my wife will tell you just how her suggestion was received:

"THE LADIES' HOME JOURNAL,

"Philadelphia. February 5, 191 "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 connection 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 may 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-
flo.1922.2010.163.jpg 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 T 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
• 2 1/2 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
flo.1922.2010.164.jpg 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 T thought I would try my hand on [illustration - PIN MONEY MADE WITH THE NEEDLE.] little bonnets. I made two. A friend offered me $5 for them before they were finished. I accepted
flo.1922.2010.165.jpg her offer and from that day to this I have never been troubled about pin-money.

"In four weeks' time 1 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 ordinarily 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 so( n 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
flo.1922.2010.166.jpg [illustration - A game of marbles in the Shadow of the Washington Monument]
flo.1922.2010.167.jpg 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 having 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 depends 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,
flo.1922.2010.168.jpg who that has been treated until the age of fifteen or twenty like a helpless infant, and had every [illustration - Washing Dollies' Clothes] want supplied without being put to the necessity of either mental or bodily exertion, was ever good for anything afterwards?

flo.1922.2010.169.jpg

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 standing 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 willing to leave to her mother the work of washing the dishes, sweeping and scouring the floors, caring for the little children, doing the Monday washings, 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.

The home and the public school are the two great agencies which are jointly engaged, or which should be jointly engaged, in teaching children to
flo.1922.2010.170.jpg 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 community. 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 thoroughly learned the value and importance of the lesson of self-help. First, learn to help yourself, and then yon will be able to see more clearly how to help others.

AIMING AT SOMETHING.

It is true, boys and girls, that it is what yon hit, not what yon aim at, that counts; but, nevertheless, 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 successful 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 something
flo.1922.2010.171.jpg higher and better than office and position. Character is the grandest, the highest and best thing in this world. -Vv-e include in this one little word "character" a world of things. Honor, up-rightness, speaking the truth, dealing fairly with people, being willing to help the lowly and unfortunate, paying your debts promptly, 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 [illustration - AIMING AT SOMETHING.] 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
flo.1922.2010.172.jpg 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:

"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
flo.1922.2010.173.jpg 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 vagrancy, he sent to his two brothers, who were prosperous brokers in D. St., asking them to pay his fine. Word came back that they would not interfere 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 account of his good behaviour. The first thing he did, 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 iii such things. With uncovered head, he knelt and
flo.1922.2010.174.jpg 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 [illustration - 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. "and m going to prove it."

flo.1922.2010.175.jpg

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. Reynolds, 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 determination 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 Reynolds. 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 (10 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.
flo.1922.2010.176.jpg 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 Will was a constant visitor at the Railroad 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. C. 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." Re 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
flo.1922.2010.177.jpg" tramp and had been killed, or was again serving a sentence in prison somewhere—were wrong.

The same week that Will was made Superintendent of Construction of the Big Bend Railroad, the newspapers spread all over the country the news that Col. Oliver P. Reynolds had committed suicide. According to their way, the newspapers gave all the sickening details of the tragedy, together 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 hastened 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 outsider.

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-
flo.1922.2010.178.jpg" olds, members of the firm of John B. Reynolds & Bro.. had been arrested and placed in the Tombs, charged with misappropriating $175,000 of trust [illustration - "WELL, 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 did they
flo.1922.2010.179.jpg fail to tell how these two brothers had earlier in life turned their backs on a younger brother.

Will read the papers, and, saying to his wife, "Well, Mary, perhaps they'll be glad to see me this trip," he went immediately to offer his services to his brothers.

He had prophesied correctly. John and Thomas were very glad to see him. They had no friends among those high in financial circles because they had for many years conducted their business in such a way that business men had no confidence iii them. They had no credit and could get nobody to go on their bonds. Will took in the situation at a glance. He had been thoughtful enough to bring along with him the leading attorney of the Big Bend Railroad, and he put matters straight-way into his hands. Bail was arranged, the brothers were released, and the lawyer then turned his attention to the prosecutors. It was discovered that almost half of the amount stolen was the property of Simon B. Nesmith, President of the Big Bend Railroad. When Will Reynolds and the lawyer found that their own superior officer had been so heavily hit by .John B. Reynolds & Bro., they came near fainting. Fortunately Nesmith when he heard the whole story agreed not to prosecute, and not only said that he would be satisfied with any settlement that the Railroad's Attorney might arrange but also volunteered to see the others concerned and use his influence in having them do likewise.

flo.1922.2010.180.jpg

In a short time matters were adjusted, and John Reynolds and Thomas Reynolds were saved from prison. But they lost all their earthly possessions and their brother, "the black sheep" of the family, had to secure them for the sum of $40,000 besides.

John B. Reynolds and Thomas Reynolds came to their senses. It was their time to cry now. Amidst great sobs they said,—"We treated you wrongly, brother Will; we ought to have helped you many years ago; we are so sorry we didn't; and it was such a small matter, too."

But Will said,—"Don't talk about the past: I'm your brother still. Go mid do as I did. Start over and make men of yourselves—you'll have enough time. That's all I ask."

THE HOLY BIBLE.

I heard a minister say the other day that a mother had not necessarily done much for her boy because she had bought him a nice Bible and put it in his trunk, when he was about to leave home to seek his fortune in the world. I think it wrong for anybody—minister or what not—to indulge in such loose and flippant talk. The effect is bad
flo.1922.2010.181.jpg always bad, and no hair splitting, and no higher criticism, and no curiously ingenius explanations can mend the matter. As for me, give me the old-fashioned mother who sends her son out into the world with a Bible in his trunk, and give me the old-fashioned boy who reads that Bible every night with tears in his eves, as he thinks of the old folks at home and of their simple lives devoted to .Jesus Christ. Give me the man, woman or child, whose hands touch the Bible reverently, instead of slinging it about as a dictionary or some common dime novel. (live me the plain old fellow who quickly takes leave of that circle in which critics are proceeding to ably explain away certain chapters of the Bible.

As for me, I want no new theories about the Bible—new versions—new criticisms. No man has a right to weaken the faith of others. No man has a right to knock away the staff that supports the crippled wayfarer. And no man has a right to tell an aged mother that it does no good to give her boy a Bible unless he can suggest a better substitute. Destroy the old-fashioned idea concerning the Bible, and we shall have a nation of infidels defying God, defying the law, and repeating the licentiousness and horrors of the French Revolution. We should make the Bible first in all things. Make the Bible first in the family, in the Sunday-school and church, make it first in state and society, and we shall have a Republic that will grow brighter and brighter as
flo.1922.2010.182.jpg the years come and go, and then we "shall go out with joy, and be lead forth with peace: and the mountains and the hills shall break forth before us into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands."

[illustration - CARNEGIE LIBRARY, WASHINGTON D.C.
COLORED PEOPLE ARE WELCOME HERE. ]

Andrew Carnegie, Greatest Philanthropists of the Age, who has climbed from the position of messenger boy and telegraph operator to become America's richest steel manufacturer, a. Multi-Minionaire, has given practically every large city that would accept it, a Library for the general public, averaging in value $500,000'00. His gifts have had enormous money value, but the value to humanity cannot be estimated.

flo.1922.2010.183.jpg

"Do not make riches, but usefulness, your first aim, and let your chief pride by that your daily occupation is in the line of progress and development; that your work, in whatever capacity it may be, is useful work, honestly conducted, and as such ennobles your life.
"Whatever your salary be, save a little; live within your means. The man who saves a little from his income has given the surest indication of the very qualities that every employer is seeking for.
"The great successes of life are made by concentration. Do not think you have done your full duty when you have performed the work assigned you. You will never rise if you only do this.
"You hear a good deal about poverty nowadays, and the cry goes up to abolish poverty, but it will be the saddest day of civilization when poverty is no longer with us. It is from the soil of poverty that all the virtues spring. Without poverty. where will your inventor, your artist, your philanthropist, come from?
"There are three classes of young men in the world. One starts out to be a millionaire. Another seeks reputation, perhaps at the cannon's mouth. A third young man, who will be successful, is he who starts out in life with self-respect and who is true to himself and his fellow-men. He cannot fail to win."

flo.1922.2010.184.jpg

DIRECTIONS FOR LITTLE GENTLEMEN.

• 1. The essential part of good breeding is the practical desire to afford pleasure and to avoid giving pain. Any boy possessing this desire requires only opportunity and observation to become a little gentleman.
• 2. Never be guilty of what are called practical jokes; that is to say, never place a pin in a chair so that somebody may come along and sit on the pin's point; never pull back a chair when a person is about to sit down, and in that way cause such a person to fall on the floor. No little gentleman will play such tricks.
• 3. Whenever a lady enters a room, it is proper for boys to rise, if they are seated, but you must never offer a lady a chair from which you have just risen, if there is another chair in the room.
• 4. Never engage in conversation while a person is singing. It is an insult not only to the singer but to the company.
• 5. Always take off your hat when assisting a lady to or from a carriage.
• 6. If in a public place, you pass and re-pass persons of your acquaintance, it is only necessary to salute them on the first occasion.
• 7. Do not wear anything that is so conspicuous
  flo.1922.2010.185.jpg as to attract attention; and, particularly, avoid the ruffian style.
• 8. Do not lose your temper. Particularly if [illustration - DIRECTIONS FOR LITTLE GENTLEMEN']
  flo.1922.2010.186.jpg you are playing innocent games for amusement and happen to lose; avoid the exhibition of anxiety or vexation at lack of success.
• 9. In all your associations, keep constantly in view the old adage, "too much familiarity breeds contempt."

THE RIGHT TO PLAY.

The right to play is one of the divine rights of men and women, of boys and girls, and is just as essential to the peace, happiness and prosperity of the world as is the right to pray. Never be afraid or ashamed, my young friends, of honest, Vigorous, healthy play. Dominoes, lawn tennis, baseball, football, ping-pong, golf, foot-racing, leaping and jumping, boxing and wrestling, pole-vaulting, punching the bag, swinging dumb-bells or Indian clubs, and a hundred other things are perfectly sane and wholesome amusements for old or young. To refrain from all forms of amusements is just as destructive of happiness and injurious to character as is the other extreme of indulging too freely in pleasures and pastimes. Puritan austerity and unrestrained excess arc alike to be condemned. But a certain amount of play—play of the right kind and within proper limits—is a divine right of young people. Young people must have fun and relaxation, and, if they do not find it in their own homes, it will be sought in other and perhaps dangerous places.

flo.1922.2010.187.jpg

For myself, I believe that anybody is an enemy to young people who desires to repress and crush out the naturally buoyant spirits of childhood and youth, and he is a benefactor of humanity who makes it a part of his business to see that proper places of amusement are provided for the young people. Aside from the physical advantages of play, there are moral advantages also. A man who helps to keep his body in good condition by regular exercise is, in that way, beyond a doubt, adding to the number of his days; that is to say, he will live longer than the man who doesn't play. But beyond and above that, he is a happier man while he lives; he gets more joy and satisfaction out of life than the other fellow. Sane and healthy play tends to blot out the remembrance of cares and hardship ; it gives our minds something else to think about. But young people must be careful not to become absorbed in these things. I believe in play; I believe in pleasure, in fun. But when I see young people, or old people for that matter, devoting all their time to wheeling, foot-balling, card parties, the giddy whirl of the dance, the bacchanalian hilarity of the dram shop, and so on, I am forced to say that things which may be right when taken in moderation, and as a relief from the overtaxing burdens of life, are wrong when they become the chief object for which one lives.

flo.1922.2010.188.jpg

A forsaken little kitten wandered up and down the street on the day before Christmas. It had no home; it had no name; it had no ribbon around its neck; and it had no saucer of nice milk in one corner.

It began to grow dark, and colder too, and the stars came peeping out, and the first flakes of a real Christmas snowstorm began floating down through the air. The kitten mewed a trembling little mew, which told as plainly as it could that it was very hungry, and it fluffed out its fur to keel) itself warm.

Now, somewhere along that street, up on top of a house (hiding behind a chimney where he couldn't be seen), was Santa Claus, getting everything in shape before starting on his evening round. When old Santa saw that lonesome little kitten strolling around he smiled—yes, old Santa Claus smiled. He smiled because he knew that two blocks up the street a little girl was standing with her nose pressed against the window, looking out into the deepening night.

He had seen her as he went by. And he had also seen the poor little supper laid out for two on the table, and heard her say to her mother, in a quavering voice:

flo.1922.2010.189.jpg

"A whole day for fun, fireworks and noise to-morrow!" exclaimed Frank, as he buttoned his white apron about him the day before the Fourth of July. A great trout was thrown down on the counter by Ned Tant, one of Frank's playmates.

"YOU HAVE FORGIVENESS, FRANK."

"Here's a royal trout, Frank. I caught it myself. You may have it for ten cents. Just hand over the money, for I'm in a hurry to buy my fire-crackers," said Ned hurriedly.

flo.1922.2010.190.jpg

The deacon was out, but Frank had made purchases for him before, so the dime spun across to Ned, who was off like a shot. Just then Mrs. Sinclair appeared.

"I want a nice trout for my dinner tomorrow. This one will do; how much is it?" she asked as she careful examined it.

"A quarter, ma'am," and the fish was transferred to the lady's basket and the silver piece to the money drawer.

But here Frank paused.

He thought to himself: "Ten cents was very cheap for that fish. If I tell the deacon it cost fifteen cents he'll be satisfied, and I shall have five cents to invest iii firecrackers."

The deacon was pleased with Frank's bargain, and when the market was closed each went his way for the night.

But the nickel buried in Frank's pocket burned like a coal. He could eat no supper, and was cross and unhappy. At last he could stand it no longer, but, walking rapidly, tapped at the door of Deacon Hepworth's cottage.

The old man was seated at a table, reading the Bible. Frank's heart almost failed him, but he told the story and with tears of sorrow laid the coin in the deacon's hand.

Turning over the leaves of the Bible, the old man read:

"He that covereth his sins shall not prosper,
flo.1922.2010.191.jpg out whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy."

"You have forgiveness, Frank," he said. "Now go home and confess to the Lord, and remember you must forsake as well as confess. Here, you may keep this coin as long as you live to remind you of your first temptation."

A MONUMENT TO A BLACK MAN

In the city of Columbus, Georgia, there was erected in the year 1904 a monument to the memory of a colored man named Bragg Smith. Mr. Smith lost his life in the autumn of 1903 in an effort to save the life of the city engineer of Columbus, who had been buried under an excavation in the street. A large crowd of colored men

flo.1922.2010.192.jpg

was at work digging deep trenches in which were to be placed pipes for running water about the city. In some way the sides of the narrow trench had not been properly supported by planks or otherwise, and by-and-by a great stretch of dirt caved in. Unfortunately the city engineer, a white man, was caught underneath the falling dirt. Bragg Smith did not stop to say: "Oh it's a white man; let him die!" but at once jumped down into the ditch and tried to pull the white man from under the heavy dirt. It was while he was engaged this work that the dirt fell from both sides a second time, and Bragg Smith, in his effort to save the life of the white man, lost his own life. The Bible says: "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man will lay down his life for a friend."

The city council at its first regular meeting after the accident voted to erect a suitable monument to the memory of Mr. Smith. The monument was dedicated in April, 1904. The monument is of Vermont and Georgia marbles, and bears on one side this inscription:

"Erected by the City of Columbus to mark the last resting place of Bragg Smith, who died on September 30, 1903, in the heroic but fruitless effort to save the life of the city engineer."

On the other side appears this quotation from Alexander Pope:

"Honor and fame from no conditions rise: Act well your part; there all the honor lies."

flo.1922.2010.193.jpg

THE BAD BOY - WHO HE IS.

My dear children, I am happy to say that all boys who are called bad boys are not bad boys. There is quite a difference between a bad boy and a merely mischievous boy. A boy is not necessarily bad because he makes unearthly noises about the house, or now and then twists the cat's tail just to hear her mew, or muddies his clothes in an effort to catch crawfish. He is not bad just because he likes to "play fantastic" on the fourth day of July. So many people complain of their boys being bad when they are only mischievous—that is to say, when they are only full of life. Some people think that a good boy is one that has a pale face and looks sickly; one that wears a sanctimonious look and moves along through the world as though he were afraid to put one foot in front of the other. That isn't my kind of a boy. I do not think that kind of a fellow is a boy at all—he is 'most a girl! A boy who never enjoys a romp in the woods, who never climbs the apple tree before or after the apples are ripe, who never plays ball, who will not shoot marbles, etc.—this sort of a boy usually dies young, or he grows up to be a "male woman." I mean by that, that he grows up to be a man who acts like a woman; and that kind of man is hardly fit for anything.

flo.1922.2010.194.jpg

But there are some bad boys, I am sorry, to say—really bad boys, bad in heart and in deed. I have seen some on the chain gangs; I have seen some hanging around the street corners—especially [illustration - PLAY FANTASTIC ON THE FORTH OF JULY.] on Sundays, with no clean clothes on; I have seen them smoking cigarettes—and a cigarette is something which no manly boy will use; I have seen them in saloons, drinking, playing pool and
flo.1922.2010.195.jpg playing cards; I have sometimes seen them shooting dice in the street for money. There are probably one thousand boys in the jails, reformatories and in the penitentiaries in the single state of Georgia. To form anything like an adequate estimate of the total number of bad boys in the South we must add to the above number the boys imprisoned in the other states; and, also, that much larger number who have never been imprisoned because they happen never to have been arrested, or who have been arrested and have had their fines paid in money; and, finally, we must add those who have already served their time and arc again at large. So, you see, there are many thousands and thousands of bad boys in the world, and they are very easily found. Are you a bad boy or a good boy? Isn't it better to be a good boy than to be a bad boy?

Almost anybody can make something out of a boy who is naturally good, but it takes one of very Christlike power and patience to make anything out of a really bad boy. Yet all boys may be re-claimed, reformed, saved; at least so I believe. And the first step in making a good man out of a bad boy has to do with the boy's body. The Holy
flo.1922.2010.196.jpg Bible tells us that our bodies are the temples—the dwelling places—of the Holy Ghost, and every boy, and every teacher of every boy, in the home or day school or Sunday school, should give more time and attention to the body in order to make it a fit place for such a holy being. It is as true now as of old that plenty of soap and water will exert a wholesome influence in making bad boys good. Some one has said that cleanliness is next to godliness, and somebody has added that soap is a means of grace. A boy who is taught to bathe regularly and who is taught to keep his clothing neat and clean at all times will in that way [illustration - THE BAD BOY]
flo.1922.2010.197.jpg learn the great lesson of self-respect quicker than in any other way; and, in my judgment, the shortest way to the purification of a boy's habits, a boy's morals, a boy's character, is to teach him first to keel) his body pure. Keep it pure not only by baths and clean clothes, but keep it pure and sweet by keeping it free from whiskey and tobacco in every form. Exercise, regular and systematic exercise, whether as work or play, will go a great way towards keeping the body clean and healthy. Every boy is mistaken, every parent is mistaken, who thinks that labor is unworthy, or that any kind of honest work is degrading. The body needs to be kept alive and vigorous by the frequent use of all its parts, and there is no better way to keep the body vigorous than by doing some kind of work-work that requires the use of the hands and legs and muscles, work that stimulates the blood and makes it flow freely through the body.

Another step in the process of making a good man out of a bad boy has to do with the mind. The body grows not alone by exercise, but the body grows by what we put into it: time food we eat and the water we drink, etc. We might say, I think, that the body grows on what it feeds on. It is the same way with the mind: the mind grows on what it feeds on. If we feed our minds on obscene pictures, on bad books, on vulgar stories, told by our-selves or our associates, we cannot expect to have minds that are keenly alive and active for good.

flo.1922.2010.198.jpg

Our thoughts control us, boys and girls, whether we understand the process by which they control or not. Our thoughts control us. If our thoughts are pure and sweet and noble, we will be pure and sweet and noble. If our thoughts are impure, vile and ignoble, we will be impure, vile and ignoble. Our thoughts rule us. So every boy should guard well his thoughts; every boy should guard well what he puts into his mind. Every boy's mind feeds on what he puts into it, and every boy's mind grows on what it feeds. It goes without saying, then, that a boy should not read "blood and thunder" detective stories, stories about the "James Brothers" and other outlaws and bandits; nor should a boy read filthy so-called "love stories." All such literature should be shunned, as a boy would shun deadly poison. A boy who desires to become a good man should read only those things which will give him confidence in himself that he can and may become a good man—good for the service of God and the service of his fellow-men. Bad company must also be left behind If a bad boy wants to become a good boy. Those boys who tell smutty jokes and stories should not be allowed to associate with that boy whose eyes have been opened and who wants to feed his mind on good and wholesome food. Character, boys, in its last analysis depends chiefly on three things: Heredity, environment and will. Now you cannot do much to change your inherited tendencies—the tendencies you receive from mother and father
flo.1922.2010.199.jpg at birth, but you can do much in offsetting, in overcoming these tendencies. You can also do much with the aid of a generous and enlightened public to change your surroundings if they happen to be bad. I confess that your mothers and fathers, your teachers and pastors ought to do much more in this regard than you; but if they will not exert themselves to get you out of evil surroundings, then, as you value your own life and time and possibilities, by the help of God, try to get out yourselves. The will is very largely influenced by your surroundings. Hence you can see the importance of having good books and good associates.

But whatever you do, boys, do not forget Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. The highest part of your nature is your spiritual nature, and, while you are building up the body and building up the mind, do not for-get to build up your soul. If others will not assist you in this greater matter you can help yourselves. The Master said: "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not."

flo.1922.2010.200.jpg

THOMAS GREENE BETHUNE ("BLIND' TOM")

I suppose there is not a little colored girl or boy in America who has not heard of the wonderful "Blind Tom," one of the greatest musicians of the world. I wish that every boy and girl might have seen him and hoard him give one of his remarkable performances with the piano. I had that high favor and privilege myself. During his life on the stage, or for more than forty years, "Blind Tom" was seen probably by more people in the world than any one living being. His stage career was closed somewhere in 1900. Everywhere, in this country and Europe, those who observed him most closely, and attempted to understand him, pronounced him a living miracle. unparalleled, incomprehensible, such as had not been seen before in the world, and probably never would be seen again.

Thomas Greene Bethune, better known to the public as "Blind Tom," was born within a few miles of the city of Columbus, Georgia, on the twenty-fifth day of May, 1849. He was of pure negro blood, and was born blind. He was little less than four years old when a piano was brought
flo.1922.2010.201.jpg to the house of his master, for he was born a slave. As long as any one was playing he was contented to stay in the yard and dance and caper to the music. Sometimes he was permitted to indulge his curiosity by being allowed to run his fingers over the keys. One night the parlor and piano had been left open. Before day the young ladies of the family awoke and were astounded to hear Blind Tom playing one of their pieces. The family gathered around him to witness and wonder at his performance, which they said was marvellously strange. Notwithstanding that this was his first known effort at a tune, he played with both hands and used the black as well as the white keys. Pretty soon he was allowed free access to the piano, and began to play off-hand everything he ,heard. As young as he was, he soon mastered all of that and began composing for himself. The record of his public life is too long for me to give, but that Blind Tom was known and honored around the world is known to everybody.

But feeling that every colored boy and girl should be justly proud of Blind Tom's record, I will give some words from the book of Hon. James M. Trotter, himself a colored man. His book is called "Music and Some Highly Musical People." He says:

"Blind Tom is unquestionably the most wonderful musician the world has ever known. He is an absolute master in the comprehension and retention of all sound. You may sit down to the
flo.1922.2010.202.jpg pianoforte and strike any note or chord or dis- cord, or a great number of them, and he will at once give their proper names, and, taking your Place, reproduce them. Complete master of the pianoforte keyboard, he calls to his melodious uses, with most consummate ease, all of its re- sources that are known to skillful performers, as well as constantly discovers and applies those that are new. Under his magnetic touch this instrument may become, at his will, a music box, a hand organ, a harp, or a bagpipe, a "Scotch fiddle," a church organ, a guitar, or a banjo; it may imitate the "stump speaker" as he delivers his glowing harangue; or, being brought back to its legitimate tones, it may be made to sing two melodies at once, while the performer, with his voice, de-livers a third, all three in different time and keys, all in perfect tune and time, and each one easily distinguishable from the other! He remembers and Plays fully seven thousand pieces. Some persons, it is true, have had the temerity to say that Blind Tom is an idiot. Out with the idea! Who ever heard of an idiot possessing such power of memory, such fineness of musical sensibility, such order, such method, as he displays: Let us call him the embodiment of music. the soul of music, and there let our investigations rest, for all else is vain speculation. No one lives, or, so far as we know, has ever lived. that can at all be compared with him."

flo.1922.2010.203.jpg

NOT FIT TO KNOW.

Susan and Mamie and Lillian and Marjorie were always close friends. They usually went together and played together and it was very unusual to see one of them without the others. At school they always made it a rule to lunch together and play together. One day at recess they were standing in a little group all by themselves when Frances joined them.

"What are you talking about, girls?" asked Frances in cheerful tones.

"I'm telling them a secret," said Susie, "and we will let you know, too, Frances, if you'll promise not to tell any one."

"I'll promise you not to tell anybody but my mother," said Frances,"for I have made it a rule to tell my mother everything."

"No; you can't even tell your mother," answered Susie; "you must not tell any one in the world."

[illustration - "FRANCES."]
flo.1922.2010.204.jpg

"Well, then, I refuse to hear it," said Frances, as she walked away, "for what I can't tell my mother is not fit for me to know."

Don't you think Frances was right, girls? I think so. As soon as little boys and girls begin to listen to words and stories which they would be ashamed to repeat to their mothers they are on the road to temptation, and nobody can tell how soon they will reach the end, which is always disgrace and death.

I wish all the boys and girls who will read this book would make the reply of Frances their motto "What I cannot tell my mother is not fit to know." Stick to this rule through thick and thin, and you will avoid many- of the snares and Pitfalls by which many of your companions and Playmates sink into shame and sin. Don't read a note that you would be afraid to have your mother read. Don't look at a picture that you would be ashamed to have your mother see. Don't 'Peak any word, and don't allow any to be spoken to you, that you would not like to have your mother hear. A girl's best friend is her mother. A boy's best friend is his mother. And, boys and girls, be very sure that if a thing isn't fit for your mothers to know it isn't fit for you to know.

flo.1922.2010.205.jpg

Henry Oliphant always considered himself lucky whenever he was able to get a ride on the street cars without paying for it, or get a glass of soda water or be admitted to some public place, where an admission fee was charged, without paying the price. He was bragging one day to some of his boy friends that he had not paid anything to witness the school exhibition the night before. Frank Sewall was brave enough to chide him for having done so. Frank was a plain-spoken boy, and Henry didn't like what Frank had said. He thought what he had done was all right, while Frank had said that it was all wrong. Anyhow, Henry decided to get his father's opinion on the matter.

"Father," he said, when night had come, "I got in the hall last night for nothing."

"How was that?"

"I just walked by the doorkeeper and he didn't ask me for any money."

"Did the doorkeeper see you?"

"Well, father, that was his business; he was put there for that purpose; he ought to have seen me."

"But I asked you, Henry, whether the door-keeper saw you. I want you to answer that question."

flo.1922.2010.206.jpg

"I don't know, sir."

"Do you think he saw you?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Well, Henry, if he had seen you, don't you think he would have asked you for your money or a ticket?"

[illustration - "FATHER," HE SAID. WHEN NIGHT HAD COME, "I GOT IN THE - HALL LAST NIGHT FOR NOTHING"]

"I guess so, father; but he didn't ask me for anything."

"Well, now, Henry, you know that a charge of ten cents was made at the door, and that no one
flo.1922.2010.207.jpg had a right to enter who had not paid the ten cents. You did go in without paying. Now, whether the doorkeeper saw you or not, do you think that that was quite honest on your part? Was that the right way for you to act?"

'"Well, I would have paid him if he asked me. I wasn't the doorkeeper."

"I guess the man who stole our wood last week would have paid me if I had seen him and asked him; but we called that stealing."

"But, father, I did not take anything from the doorkeeper."

"Who gave you the money with which to pay your admission?"

"Mother."

"Where is that money now?"

"I have it; but I didn't take it from the door-keeper."

"But you kept it from him, Henry. It belongs to the doorkeeper. He gave you its value. My son, the right way is, whenever you buy anything, whether it be a ride or a glass of soda water or permission to see a concert, whenever you buy anything you ought to pay for it. If you don't you are no better than a common robber. You must go today and give Mr. Hall that ten cents."

flo.1922.2010.208.jpg

KEEPING FRIENDSHIP IN REPAIR.

I sometimes think that boys and girls, and even old people, are often careless in the matter of their friendships—not careless in the matter of selecting friends, though I am sure there is room for improvement along that line—but careless in trying to keep the good friendships we have already formed. We ought to keep our friendships in repair. Perhaps you think that our friendships are not things which need to be kept in repair. How foolish it is to think so! Does a garden need to be weeded? Does an old fence need to be kept in repair? Do we paint our houses only once in a century? What about the musician-does he not need to keep in practice? Supposing that you never kept your muscles in repair by constant use or exercise-how long would you be strong or healthy? And do you think that your friendships, because they are in a way intangible-you cannot see them, handle them or taste them-do you think that they grow and thrive of their own accord, and, therefore, do not need to be kept in repair? Slights, snubs, angry words, unpleasant conduct, long continued lack of association, long continued lack of familiar intercourse, and coldness, even where the meetings are periodic-these things,
flo.1922.2010.209.jpg [illustration - IS EVERYBODY HAPPY? SURE WE ARE.]
flo.1922.2010.210.jpg boys and girls, will kill the warmest friendship and choke the tenderest love. So we ought to he careful to keep our friendships in repair. If we had no friends in this world, no playmates and companions, no kindred spirits into whose keenest sorrows and highest joys we entered with deep and full sympathy, and who did not enter into our sorrows and joys in the same way-if we had no friends in this world, with all of its wealth and splendor, we should not desire to live very much longer. But to have friends and to be friendly goes a long way towards making the world a beautiful and blessed place to live in.

How, then, may we keep our friends? Easy enough—by cultivating them; and we cannot keep [illustration - THE TWO PATHS]
flo.1922.2010.211.jpg them in any other way. We should take time to be friendly. Little notes, little presents, little visits, little social entertainments, little kindnesses-these things, and things like them, go a great way in cementing our friendships, in tying people to us, as it were, with hooks of steel. We should not neglect these means of keeping our friendships in repair. Always give your friends a cordial welcome in your homes, and at your little children's parties; let them feel, make them feel, that their coming adds to your pleasure without increasing your burdens. Don't be selfish and narrow; be broad-minded and liberal. Keep your friendships in repair, and then see if you do not find your horizon broadened, your life sweetened, and the weary weight of this sad old world lightened.

LITTLE ANNIE'S CHRISTMAS.

Christmas morning came.

Daylight was just peeping into the room.

Poor little Annie, the cripple, awoke and turned her eyes towards the corner where she had hung her stocking the night before.

Surely, she thought, as she watched it, there could not be very much in it, because it didn't seem to be any larger than it was when she had
flo.1922.2010.212.jpg hung it up. After awhile she crept slowly to where it was.

She did not take her crutches, for fear she would disturb her mother, who slept in the same bed with her. It was hard for her to move around [illustration - "SHE PUT OUT HER THIN LITTLE HAND AND FELT IT."] without her crutches, but she persevered and finally she reached her stocking.

She put out her thin little hand and felt it. Yes. there was something in it! Then she put her hand
flo.1922.2010.213.jpg inside and tool: out something which seemed round and soft. She took it out and looked at it. It was a little cake. Poor little Annie smiled, and put her hand back into the stocking. This time she found something which was done up in paper. She opened the paper and found a whole dozen of gumdrops. How brightly her little eyes flashed! She was only six years old and she had never had so much candy at one time in all her life.

By-and-by her mother awoke. She raised her head and saw Annie's happy face. "Poor girl," she thought, "how happy I would have been to have bought something else for her, but I wasn't able. I hope she will be happy with what she has."

"See, mother," cried Annie, "I have twelve gumdrops and a cake. We will eat half of the gumdrops today and save the other half for to-morrow. You'll eat three and I will eat three."

"No, Annie," said her mother, "you must eat every one by yourself."

Annie smiled, but did not say anything.

Little Annie's mother was a widow, and she was very, very poor; there were many times when they had only a little dry bread and water for the day's food. For this bright Christmas season there were many things besides food which she would like to have bought for her poor little crippled child; but she did not have any money to pay for playthings or toys.

After breakfast on this Christmas day Johnny
flo.1922.2010.214.jpg Ray came to see them. He brought with him a good thick shawl for Annie's mother and four pairs of warm stockings which his mother had sent for Annie, and, also, a large package of nice candy.

Little Annie's mother cried for joy.

Little Annie was too happy to speak. She had never dreamed of having so much candy at one time!

THE VELOCIPEDE RACE.

One bright day Archibald mounted his velocipede and rode out into the long green lane, where he could ride for along distance without interruption. He had left his coat in the house because he knew that riding would make him very warm.

When he reached the lane the velocipede moved along so smoothly that Archibald was very happy. By the time he had gone nearly a half mile he was tired and stopped for a rest.

Pretty soon he heard a noise coming from be-hind, and he wondered what rider it might be on the same track that beautiful spring morning. He looked up and saw John Smith coming, riding a large velocipede and going as fast as he could.

Archibald quickly mounted his wheel and started on a swift run, trying to overtake the fly-
flo.1922.2010.215.jpg ing John. Before they reached the end of the road they saw Clara Hempton, standing by the fence with her little velocipede. Clara watched the boys as they flitted past. She thought that she could keep up with John, but she was not sure that she could ride as fast as Archibald.

[illustration - THE VELOCIPEDE RACE.]

While she was meditating Archibald cried out: "Clara, you wait until we finish this race, and then we three will go back together."

Archibald reached the end first, but John was not very far behind.

When Clara reached them Archibald said:

flo.1922.2010.216.jpg

"Now we will all have a fair start and see who will reach the other end first."

So they all started on a line. Archibald knew that he was the largest and could go the fastest, but, as he had won the other race, he did not ride this time as fast as he could. He thought this was the right way to give the others a fair chance.

Clara and John reached the other end of the lane at exactly the same time, with Archibald a short distance behind them.

John and Clara were greatly delighted because they had won the race from the big boy, Archibald. Archibald was pleased because they were pleased. This was not the only time that Archibald had proved that he was a good and kind boy, and that he was thoughtful of little children younger than himself.

From this little story of the velocipede race many other little boys and girls may learn a good lesson, I hope, that will do them good all through life.

FAULT-FINDING.

Faults are the easiest things to find in all this world. A fault is something that can be found without looking for it. And I guess no little boy or girl in all the world knows anything that is
flo.1922.2010.217.jpg easier to find than something that he or she doesn't have to look for. Well, faults are things that we can find without looking for them; so faults are the easiest things to find in all the world. Yet, boys and girls, the habit of fault- finding, or the habit of finding fault, is one of the worst habits that anybody could form. It stamps the person who is so easy to find fault with every- thing and everybody as be- ing a mean, low, envious, evil-hearted person. It is better to look for some- thing to praise, than it is to look for something to blame. Yet there are some people who are so constituted that they do not see any good in any- thing. When it is cold, it is too cold. When it is hot, it is too hot. They don't like "vici kid" shoes; they want patent leathers. The singing at church or Sunday school last Sunday was just horrid. Old Mary Jones ought to be taken out of the choir. The preacher preaches too long, or the deacon prays too loud. The school teacher isn't any good. So they go on from [illustration - FRAGILE FINDINGS]
flo.1922.2010.218.jpg day to day, finding fault with everything and everybody. Nothing pleases them; nothing de-lights them. If by any chance or mischance they should get to heaven they would, I believe, find fault with the way the Lord has arranged things up there. They are miserable people to have around-these good-for-nothing, lazy and trifling fault-finders. If you try real hard, boys and girls, you can find something good in everything and in everybody. That is one reason why we do not always see the good in people or things-we don't look for it. We can find out what is bad can find out the bad things without looking for them, but if we want to see the good things we must be on the lookout for them. If we are on the lookout-if we make up our minds that we are going to see the good, and only the good, we are always sure to find it.

There was an old woman once who was noted for being able to say something good about every-thing and everybody. She was never heard to speak evil of anything or anybody. Once upon a time a gambler died in the city where she lived. He was a miserable sinner, and nobody liked him and nobody had a good word to say for him, even after lie was dead. Aunt Maria, the good old lady, went to see him after he had been put into his coffin. The people who were present wondered what good thing Aunt Maria could possibly say about the dead sinner. Aunt Maria entered the room and
flo.1922.2010.219.jpg walked around on tiptoe. After awhile she raised her head and said:

"Friends, I tell you, he makes a mighty nice looking corpse."

GROSS DECEPTION.

RANDOM REMARKS.

In the olden times parents used to rule their children, but in these days and times there are many people who believe that the children rule their parents. So many misguided parents in these days and times believe in sparing the rod and spoiling the child. Boys don't get many whippings at home nowadays, and if a boy happens to get a good flogging at school it will cause a big row, and sometimes cause the teacher to be threatened with arrest. Whenever my teacher used to whip me I was always afraid to mention it at home for fear of getting another. I heard a man say the other day: "Never whip a child; raise your boy
flo.1922.2010.220.jpg on love and kindness and reason!" Yes; and when that boy is twelve or thirteen years old somebody will have to go to him and talk to him and try to persuade him not to whip his father or mother.

[illustration - I JUST WISH I COULD HAVE MY WAY WITH THOSE BOYS FOR ABOUT Two MINUTES.]

I was at church the other day and I saw two boys about ten or eleven years old. After service they lit their cigarettes and went marching off
flo.1922.2010.221.jpg as big as Trip. A man of the old school looked at them for awhile, and then, turning away, he said:

"I just wish I could have my way with those boys for about two minutes."

I didn't say anything, but deep down in my heart I sympathized with the old man, and felt that both of time youngsters ought to have had a good whipping.

Some girls are almost as bad as some boys. Girls are most too fast in these days. As soon as they get their dresses to their shoetops they are gone. They go crazy over their clothes, for they think that they must keep in the fashion. They read too much trash, for they think that is the way refined and cultured people do. Old-fashioned modesty is at a discount. The girls don't wait for the boys to come now-that is, many of them don't; they go after them. I have seen some girls running around in these new-fashioned night gowns, and they call it a Mother Hubbard party. If their mothers don't allow them to go with the boys they will slip around and meet them some-where anyhow. And where they are allowed to go with the boys they generally go to extremes. What business has a little girl-ten or twelve or fourteen years old-to be locked-arms with a little stripling of a boy, going home at night from church or some social entertainment. It always disgusts me whenever I see it. Worse than a mannish boy is a womanish girl. What business has a little girl, or a larger one, to allow
flo.1922.2010.222.jpg a man to throw his arm around her waist in the round dance? It is immodest, to say the least, and there is not a good mother in the land who approves it. A girl who goes to a promiscuous ball and waltzes around with promiscuous fellows puts herself in a promiscuous fix to be talked about by the dudes and rakes and fast young fellows who have encircled her waist. Slander is very common, 1 know, especially slander of young ladies; there are not many young ladies who escape it; but the trouble about it is that it is not all slander-some of it is the truth.

In the olden times when folks got married they stayed married, but nowadays the courts are full of divorce cases. The land is spotted with what are called "grass widows," and in many a house-hold there is hidden grief over a daughter's shame. Why is it? What causes it? Lack of proper training and care of the young. Habits are great things -good habits or had habits. If girls are reared to clean their teeth and keep their fingernails clean they will keel) them clean all their lives. If boys are reared to chew tobacco and smoke they will never quit. The same about loving and courting and getting married. Much depends upon training, upon habits. Young flirts make old flirts. Young devils make old devils!

BENJAMIN BANNEKER, THE NEGRO ASTRONOMER.

The little colored boys and girls of America should be proud to know, as I suppose the little white boys and girls will be surprised to learn, that the first clock of which every portion was made in America was made by a colored man.

The colored children will also be glad to know, I think, that among the earliest almanacs pre-pared for general use in this country were those which were published for several years by this same colored man. His name was Benjamin Banneker. I have found a good and true account of this wonderful man in The Atlantic Monthly for January, 1863. I am going to give a good portion of that account in this book, because I believe every colored person in America should be acquainted with that man's history. The account says:

"Benjamin Banneker was born in Baltimore County, Maryland, near the village of Ellicott's Mills, in the year 1732. There was not a drop of white man's blood in his veins. His father was born in Africa, and his mother's parents were both natives of Africa. What genius he had, then, must be credited to that race. When he was approaching manhood he went, in the intervals of
flo.1922.2010.224.jpg toil, to an obscure and remote country school. At this school Benjamin acquired a knowledge of reading and writing, and advanced in arithmetic as far as `Double position.' Beyond these rudiments he was his own teacher. Young Banneker had no books at all, but in the midst of labor for a living he so improved upon what he had gained in arithmetic that his intelligence became a mat-ter of general observation. He was such an acute observer of the natural world and had so diligently observed the signs of the times in society that it is very doubtful whether at forty years of age this African had his superior in Maryland.

"Perhaps the first wonder amongst his comparatively illiterate neighbors was excited, when, about the thirtieth year of his age, Benjamin made a clock. It is probable that this was the first clock of which every portion was made in America; it is certain that it was purely his own invention as if none had ever been made before. Ile had seen a watch, but never a clock, such an article not being within fifty miles of him. He used the watch as a model for his clock. lie was a long time at work on the clock,-his chief difficulty, as he used often to relate, being to make the hour, minute, and second hands correspond in their motion. But at last the work was completed, and raised the admiration for Banneker to quite a high pitch among his few neighbors.

"The making of the clock proved to be of great importance in assisting the young man to fulfill
flo.1922.2010.225.jpg his destiny. It attracted the attention of the Ellicott family, who had just begun a settlement at Ellicott's Mills. They were well-educated men, with much mechanical knowledge, and some of them Quakers. They sought out the ingenious negro, and lie could not have fallen into better hands. In 1787 Mr. George Ellicott gave him Mayer's 'fables," Ferguson's "Astronomy," and Leadbetter's "Lunar Tables." From this time astronomy because the great object of Banneker's life, and in its study lie almost disappeared from the sight of his neighbors. He slept much (luring the day, that he might the more devotedly observe at night the heavenly bodies whose laws he was slowly, but surely, mastering.

"Very soon after the possession of the books already mentioned, Banneker determined to com-pile an almanac, that being the most familiar use that occurred to him of the information lie had acquired. To make an almanac then was a very different thing from what it would be now, when there is an abundance of accurate tables and rules. Banneker had no aid whatever from men or rules; and Mr. George Ellicott, who procured some tables and took them to him, states that he had already advanced very far in the preparation of the Iogaritlnns necessary for the purpose.

"The first almanac prepared by Banneker for publication was for the year 1792. By this time his acquirements had become generally known, and among those who were attracted by them was
flo.1922.2010.226.jpg Mr. James McHenry. Mr. McHenry wrote to Goddard and Angell, then the almanac-publishers of Baltimore, and procured the publication of this work, which contained from the pen of Mr. Mc-Henry, a brief notice of Banneker. When his first almanac was published, Banneker was fifty-nine years old, and had received tokens of respect from all the scientific men of the country. Among others, Thomas Jefferson, then Secretary of State under George Washington, wrote him a most flattering and complimentary letter. In his letter Jefferson said, `Nobody wishes more than I do to see such proofs as you exhibit, that Nature has given to our black brethren talents equal to those of other colors of men, and that the appearance of a want of them is owing only to the degraded condition of their existence both in Africa and America.'

"Banneker continued to calculate and publish almanacs until 1802.

"Mr. Benjamin H. Ellicott, who was a true friend of Banneker, and collected from various sources all the facts concerning him, wrote in a let-ter as follows: 'During the whole of his long life he lived respectably and much esteemed by all who became acquainted with him, but more especially by those who could fully appreciate his genius and the extent of his acquirements.'

"Banneker's head was covered with a thick mass of white hair, which gave him a very dignified and venerable appearance. His dress was in-variably of superfine drab broadcloth, made in
flo.1922.2010.227.jpg the old style of a plain coat, with straight collar and long waistcoat, and a broad-brimmed hat. His color was not jet black, but decidedly negro. In size and personal appearance, the statue of Franklin at the library in Philadelphia, as seen from the street, is a perfect likeness of him.

"Banneker died in the year 1804, beloved and respected by all who knew him. Though no monument marks the spot where he was born and lived a true and high life, and was buried, yet history must record that the most original scientific intellect which the South has yet produced was that of the pure African, Benjamin Banneker."

The above is the story of that wonderful black man told in splendid terms of high and well-deserved praise by a white man. Every little black boy in America may well be fired with inspiration to do something beyond the ordinary by reading the story of Banneker's life.

"A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM."

It is truly astonishing what a boy can do when once 1)e has made up his mind to do his best. Dr. Len. G. Broughton, the famous pastor of the Tabernacle Baptist church, Atlanta, Ga., in a little book, which he calls "The Modern Prodigal," has told a very pathetic story about a little boy. It is
flo.1922.2010.228.jpg so true to life, and so typical of what a black or white boy may do under similar circumstances, if he only decides for the true and the right, that I have decided to reproduce the little story in this book. It is well worth reading. Dr. Broughton says:

"Not long after I entered the ministry, I went to a certain town to hold a series of meetings. It was one of these good old Southern towns, the in-habitants of which banked on aristocracy and fed their souls upon the glory of departed days. They had never known what it was to be spiritually warm. The first night I was there I preached to a great audience. It was in my early ministry, when I made many propositions. The first one I made that night was for any one to stand who wanted prayers offered for their friends. As soon as I made it a little boy got up and walked out in the aisle, where he stood looking me square in the face. I said, `God bless you, little man,' and he sat down. I then asked any one who wanted the prayers of God's people to rise. That boy got out in the aisle again and looked me in the face, and again I said, `God bless you.' I asked if there was anybody present who was willing to accept Jesus. That boy stood up again and looked me in the face, and again I said, `God bless you.' Nobody else stood up that night, and I began to think I had struck about the hardest and coldest crowd I had ever run up against.

"The next night I preached as hard as I knew
flo.1922.2010.229.jpg how to sinners, and when I finished, I asked any-body who wanted to be prayed for to stand up. The same little rascal popped out into the aisle, as he had done the night before, and stood looking at me until I saw him and said, `God bless you.' I thought I'd vary the thing a little, so I asked if anybody present was willing to come forward and give me his hand as an indication that he would accept Jesus. That same boy came shuffling out of his seat, straight down the aisle and gave me his hand. I saw smiles on the faces of some in the congregation. Nobody but the boy showed any interest, and I went off somewhat disheartened. The third night I preached, and when I asked all who wanted prayer to rise, that boy popped out into the aisle. The people had begun to regard it as a joke, and they nudged each other with their elbows, while a broad smile flared from one side of the house to the other. When I asked anybody who was willing to accept .Jesus to come and give me his hand, that boy came, and the congregation smiled broader than before. After the meeting the deacons came to me and told me that the boy must be stopped, as he was a half-idiot, and was throwing a damper on the meeting. I said: 'Stop nothing! How are you going to throw a damper on an ice-house!'

For the whole of that week that boy was the only person in the house who showed any interest in the meeting. Then he wanted to join the church. The pastor was absent, and I was to open
flo.1922.2010.230.jpg the doors of the church. The deacons came to me and said I must not receive that boy, as he didn't have sense enough to join the church. I said: `Look here, brethren, I won't take this responsibility on my hands. I'm going to put that boy on you, and if you choose to reject him, his blood he upon your hands.' At the conclusion of the morning service, I invited all who wanted to unite with the church to come forward. That boy came. I asked him if he had accepted Christ for his personal Saviour. That's all I ever ask. He said he had. `Brethren,' I said, `you hear what this boy has to say. What will you do with him?' An ominous silence fell on the congregation. After a time, from 'way back by the door, I heard a muffled and rather surly, `I move he be received.' Another painful silence followed, and then, from the middle of the church, I heard a muffled, `I second the motion.' When I put the motion, about a half dozen members voted `aye' in a tone so low that it seemed as if they were seared. I gave the boy the right hand of Christian welcome awaiting baptism, and then dismissed the congregation.

"The next day the boy went out to see his old grandfather, a man whose whitened head was blossoming for the grave, and whose feet were taking hold upon the shifting sands of eternity. 'Grand-father,' said he, `won't you go to church with me to-night and hear that preacher?' We always feel kindly towards those who are afflicted, you know,
flo.1922.2010.231.jpg and are willing to please them; so the old man agreed to go.

"That night I saw the boy and the old man sitting away back by the door. When the sermon was finished, one of the members of the church arose and said: `I have a request to make. We have with us tonight, Mr. Blank, one of our oldest and most respected citizens, but he is out of Christ. I want special prayer offered for this my special friend.' With that he laid his hand upon the head of the old man, down whose furrowed cheeks the tears were streaming. The next night I saw the old man sitting about half-way down the aisle. When all who wanted to accept Jesus were invited to come forward and give me their hands, I saw the half-idiot boy coning down the aisle leading the old man by the hand.

"That little boy's father kept a saloon. The following day the child went there, and climbing up over the high counter, he peeped down upon his father and said: `Papa, won't you go to church with me to-night to hear that preacher?' `You get out of here, child,' said the father; `go out of here; don't you know you mustn't come in here?' Strange, strange, how fathers will keep places where their children cannot go! `But, papa,' continued the boy, `won't you go to church with me to-night?' `Yes; I'll go, but you get out of here.'

"That night the man came with the half-idiot boy, and sat about where the old man had sat the night before. When I asked all who would accept
flo.1922.2010.232.jpg Jesus to come forward, he walked down the aisle and gave me his hand. He asked if he could make a statement, and when I said 'Yes,' he faced the congregation and said: 'My friends, you all know me, and I want to say that so long as I live I will never sell another drop of whiskey, for I have given my heart to God to-night, and from this day forward I propose to serve him.'

"The meeting warmed up at last, the town was set on fire for God. Every saloon keeper was converted and every saloon was closed. The feeling spread and a saloon seven miles in the country was closed and the keeper was converted to God.

"At the close of the meeting I sat on the front seat and saw the pastor lead three generations into the baptismal waters, the old man in front, his son behind him, and last in line the little half-idiot boy. The only mistake that was made, to my mind, was that the boy who had led the others to Christ should not have been first in line. Where is the little half-idiot boy now? He has grown much brighter within the last few years, and is now going to school. He says he wants to be and will be a missionary.

"What a lesson for the young to-day. Persistent self-surrender, ever doing the best we can, is a never failing way that leads to victory."

flo.1922.2010.233.jpg

DIRECTIONS FOR LITTLE LADIES

• 1. A little lady always says, "I thank you" whenever anybody assists her in any way, and always says, "If you please," whenever she makes any kind of request.
• 2. A little lady is never loud and boisterous on the streets, in public places, or at home. Some-times girls are so rough that they are called "Tom-Boys." No Tom-Boy ever was a true little lady.
• 3. A true little lady will always see that her linen is clean and spotless -collars and cuffs, aprons and dresses, handkerchiefs, and all articles of clothing. Every true little lady hates dirt.
• 4. A little lady will not be guilty of idle gossip. She will not tattle; will not go around hunting all the evil things that are said or known about other little ladies. She closes her ears tight against the slanderers of the town.
• 5. A little lady will love the Sunday-school and the church. She will love the society of good people and the society of good books. She will have higher notions of life than that life is some-thing to be spent in a merry round of pleasure.
• 6. A true little lady loves her mother, and she will show that she loves her mother in various ways. She will help her about the housework.
  flo.1922.2010.234.jpg She will be fond of going out in company with her mother often. She will not think that anybody else's mother is or can he better than her own mother.
• [illustration - DIRECTIONS FOR LITTLE GIRLS]
• 7. Every true little lady will be a Christian. She will early give herself to Jesus. She will de-
  flo.1922.2010.235.jpg light to help the poor; to visit the sick, carrying the cheer and comfort and something good to eat and flowers and many other things. She will love everybody. Do you?

THREE WORDS TO YOUNG PEOPLE.

The first word is, Be true. The second word is, Be trustworthy. The third word is, Dare to do right.

First : Be true! Be what you seem to be or what you pretend to be; do not be a hypocrite; be firm and steady in adhering to friends, promises or principles. Be a true boy; be a true girl.

Secondly: Be trustworthy! Be worthy of trust; be reliable; make your word your bond. Conduct yourself in such a way that people can depend on you.

Thirdly: Dare to do right! Whatever comes or doesn't come, stand by what you believe to be right, even if you have to stand alone. Be honest, upright, faithful, sincere, abhor that which is evil, cleave to that which is good.

True boys and girls are scarce; they are not easily found; they do not grow on trees. But, to tell you the truth, we need good boys and girls, true boys and girls, much more than we do edu-
flo.1922.2010.236.jpg cated boys and girls. All education without character is a dead weight!

Let me give you one or two reasons why you should be true, trustworthy, and brave for the right. In the first place, for the sake of your influence. Every boy and girl in this world has some influence. Every boy in this world, white or black, rich or poor, high or low, is helping his friends and playmates to grow better or worse, higher or lower in the scale of being. Every girl in this world is likewise helping or hindering others. If we are harsh and unkind, cruel and unjust-in every wrong, every baseness, meanness, selfishness, we are harming not ourselves alone but the whole great family of man. On the other hand, when we speak fearlessly a brave, true word, when we perform cheerfully a hard and trying task, whenever we are faithful, honest, ear-nest, patient, pure, trustworthy, whether we know it or not, we are strengthening the unseen impulses which make for nobility and higher man-hood and womanhood throughout the world. In the economy of God, by his infinite wisdom, the humblest life reaches forward to the highest and the highest life reaches backward to the lowest.

But perhaps you are saying that I am taking too much for granted. Perhaps you think that it is not true that there is not one of the very least of the great human family who is not every day exercising some personal influence for good or evil upon the world. If you think so, boys and girls,
flo.1922.2010.237.jpg or older people, you are mistaken. No human being can escape from the world's atmosphere. Though you fly to the uttermost parts of the sea or hide in the depths of the dense city, some life is affected by your life. Not only some life is affected by your life, but many lives are affected by your life. It is a thought of this kind that Charles Dickens beautifully expresses in his story called "David Copperfield." He says:

"There is nothing-no, nothing-beautiful and good that dies and is forgotten. An infant, a prattling child, dying in his cradle, will live again in the better thoughts of those who loved it, and plays its part, though its body be burned to ashes or drowned in the deepest sea. There is not an angel added to the hosts of heaven but does its blessed work on earth in those who loved it here. Dead! Oh, if the good deeds of human creatures could be traced to their source, how beautiful would even death appear. For how much charity, mercy, and purified affection would be seen to have their growth in dusty graves!"

No, children, it is no idle dream, no fancy story that I tell when I say that the humblest member of the human family, as well as the highest, is exercising daily, whether he is conscious of it or not, some influence for good or evil upon the world. Viewed in this light who can measure the possibilities-the divine possibilities-that are wrapped up in little boys and girls? Viewed in this light, how the slightest action, the smallest of
flo.1922.2010.238.jpg our little duties, takes on new importance! It was with this thought in mind that James A. Garfield said: "I feel a profounder reverence for a boy than a man. I never meet a ragged boy on the street without feeling that I owe him a salute, for I know not what possibilities may be buttoned up under his shabby coat." Yes, boys and girls, by every brave and cheerful effort that we put forth we are reforming, uplifting, renewing, inspiring, hearts and souls we never heard of, never knew, the whole world becoming stronger for every bit of moral courage we create, sweeter for every kindly look we give, and holier for every good deed we do. And, of course, the contrary is true. When we fail, when we come short, when we sin, the consequences are not ours alone-they extend to all humanity. We are all, white and black, rich and poor, old and young, male and female, children of one family. Just as the quivering circles from a pebble thrown into a lake stretch on and on from shore to shore, so the silent impulse of a single life thrills from heart to heart until the very edges of humanity are touched.

There is another reason still why we should be true, trustworthy, brave. That reason is that somebody else takes us as his ideal-his standard. Poor as we are, weak as we are, as unworthy as we are, somebody else is looking up to us-especially those of us who have been favored with educational advantages and opportunities. And you know that the failure of one who is invested
flo.1922.2010.239.jpg in another's mind with ideal qualities is a failure beyond the actual. That is one reason why people say that, as a rule, a preacher's children are the worst children in the world. As a matter of fact, they are not the worst children in the world; but, being the children of preachers, everybody expects more of them than of others,-they are taken as ideals, as standards-that's all. And what might be excused in others will not be excused in one who is taken as an ideal. Nathaniel Hawthorne, one of America's greatest writers, in speaking of this truth says in his story called "The Marble Faun:"

"The character of an individual beloved one having invested itself with all the attributes of right-that one friend being to us the symbol and representative of whatever is good and true,-when he falls, the effect is almost as if the sky fell with him, bringing down in chaotic ruin the columns that upheld our faith. We struggle forth again, no doubt bruised and bewildered. We stare wildly about us, and discover-or it may be we never make the discovery-that it was not actually the sky that has tumbled down but merely a frail structure of our own rearing, which never rose higher than the housetops, and has fallen because we founded it on nothing. But the crash, and the affright and trouble are as overwhelming, for the time, as if the catastrophe involved the whole moral world. Remembering these things, let them suggest one generous motive for walking heedfully amid the defilement of earthly ways. Let
flo.1922.2010.240.jpg us reflect that the highest path is pointed out by the pure ideal of those who look up to us, and who, if we tread less loftily, may never look so high again."

Now, I have said my three words. You see they have stretched themselves out to a great length, but I hope the boys and girls who read this book may profit by them. Strive to be true, strive to be trustworthy, strive to be brave. In the long run the prizes of this world, and of that which is to come, are won by boys and girls of strong moral character, not by those who are merely learned or rich. But, of course, I believe in education and I believe in money. I think you ought to strive to obtain both-both are useful, and both are necessary; but, with all your getting, boys and girls, be sure to get those things which will reach beyond this world and which will count for more than money or good looks or education or any such thing when the world is on fire, when the moon shall be turned into blood, when the trumpet sounds, and all must go to stand before the Great King to give an account of the deeds done in the body.

flo.1922.2010.241.jpg

"A LAMP UNTO MY FEET."

Once upon a time, so it is said, a little ragged boy was carefully printing these words with a stick upon the ground, "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet."

On looking up from his work, the little fellow was surprised to find a kind-looking old man watching him.

"Where did you learn that, my boy?" asked the man.

"At Sunday-school, sir."

"What's your name?"

"Crawford."

"So, Crawford, you learned that text at Sunday-school. Do you know what it means?"

"No, sir."

"What is a lamp"

"A lamp? Why, sir, a lamp is a thing that gives light!"

"That's correct. Well, what is the word that the text speaks of?"

"The Bible, sir."

"That's right. Now, how can the Bible be a lamp and give light?"

"I don't know," said the boy, "unless you light it and set it on fire."

"There's a better way than that, my lad.

Sup-
flo.1922.2010.242.jpg pose you were going down some lonely lane on a dark night with an unlighted lantern in your hand, and a box of matches in your pocket, what would you do?"

"Why, I'd light the lantern."

[illustration - "A LAMP UNTO MY FEET."]

"Why would you light it!"

"To show me the road, sir

"Very well. Now suppose you were walking behind me some day, and saw me drop a quarter; what would you do?"

"Pick it up and give it to you, sir."

"Wouldn't you want to keep it yourself?" Crawford hesitated; but he saw a smile on the
flo.1922.2010.243.jpg old gentleman's face, and, smiling himself, he finally said:

"I should want to, sir; but I shouldn't do it."

"Why not?"

"Because it would be stealing."

"How do you know?"

"It would be taking what wasn't my own, and the Bible says we are not to steal."

"Ah!" said the old man, "so it's the Bible that makes you honest, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

"If you had not heard of the Bible you would steal, I suppose?"

"Lots of boys do," said Crawford, hanging his head.

"The Bible, then," continued the old man, "shows you the right and safe path-the path of honesty, does it?"

"Like the lamp!" exclaimed Crawford, seeing now what all the old man's questions meant. "Is that what the text means?"

"Yes, my boy," the man answered, "there is always light in the Bible to show us where to go and what to do. Don't you think it would be a good thing to take the Bible, the good old lamp, and let it light you right through life?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you think you will be safer with it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

flo.1922.2010.244.jpg

"Because if I'm honest I will never go to prison."

"And what else?" asked the man.

Crawford thought awhile. By-and-by he said,-"If I mind the Bible I shall go to heaven when I die."

"Yes, and that's the best reason for taking the lamp. It will light you right into heaven."

THREE BRIGADES.

There are three brigades, or three little companies, which I think might to be organized among the boys and girls in every Sunday-school in America. Can't you form them in your Sunday-school? It is a very simple matter. It will not cost any money: only a little time and fore-thought, and a will to do. One brigade is called the Rainy-Weather Brigade, and all the little boys and girls who join this company pledge them-selves to go to Sunday-school every Sunday, when they are not sick, even if it is raining. The second brigade is called the Front Seat Brigade, and all the members of this company pledge themselves to occupy front seats in the Sunday school during the opening exercises before they pass to their classes. The third brigade is called the On-Timers' Brigade, and the children in this brigade pledge
flo.1922.2010.245.jpg themselves to be present on time at the opening hour.

You can see at once how helpful these little brigades are in every Sunday school (where they exist) to the officers and teachers. Some children [illustration - MEMBERS OF THE RAINY-WEATHER BRIGADE.] will not go to Sunday school when it is raining or when it threatens to rain; some will not go for-ward and occupy front seats when they do go; and there are others who are always tardy. What a blessing it would be if all the little children would organize these brigades at once in their schools, and try to get every scholar to join each one of them.

flo.1922.2010.246.jpg

"HOME, SWEET HOME."

Go with me, boys and girls, to the gay streets and gilded saloons of the great city of Paris far across the sea. Here is said to be the centre of all the world's follies and pleasures. It is at night.

An American, who has left his home and native land to view the splendors of the wicked city, is passing along the street. He has beheld with de-light its paintings, its sculpture, and the grand and graceful proportions of its buildings. In the midst of his keenest happiness, when he was rejoicing most over the privileges which he possessed, temptation assailed him. Sin was presented to him in one of its most bewitching garbs, and he yielded to the voice of the siren. He drank wildly and deeply of the intoxicating cup, and his draught brought madness. Reason was overthrown and he rushed out, all his scruples overcome, care-less of what he did or how deeply he became immersed in the hitherto unknown sea of guilt.

The cool night air settled damp and heavy upon his heated brow. Walking on and on, not knowing or caring where he went, by-and-by strains of music from 'a distance met his ear. Pretty soon, following in the direction from which the sounds came, he was able to distinguish the words and air of the piece. The song was well remembered. It
flo.1922.2010.247.jpg was "Home, Sweet Home." Clear and sweet the voice of some singer, using his native tongue, rose and fell on the air; and the poor wild man stopped and listened to the soft cadences of that beloved melody.

[illustration - HOME, SWEET HOME.]

Motionless he stood until the last note floated away, and he could hear nothing but the ceaseless murmur of the great city. Then he turned away slowly, with no feeling that his manhood was
flo.1922.2010.248.jpg shamed by the tear which fell as a bright evidence of the power of song, and also as an evidence that be, the guilty sinner, was not yet absolutely lost beyond recall.

The demon of the wine cup had fled, and reason once more asserted her right to control. As the soft strains of "Home, Sweet Home" had floated to his ear, memory brought up before him the picture of his own "sweet home." He saw his gentle mother and heard her speak, while honest pride beamed from her eye; she seemed to speak again of her son, in whose nobleness and honor she could always trust. His heart smote him as be thought how little he deserved such confidence. He remembered her last words of love and counsel, and the tearful farewell of all those dear ones who gladdened that far-away home with their presence. The tide of remorse swept over his soul as he thought of what the sorrow of those at home would have been could they have seen him but an hour before. Subdued and penitent he retraced his steps, and with his vow never to taste of the terrible stuff that could so excite him to madness there was mingled a deep sense of thankfulness for his escape from further degradation. The influence of home had protected and shielded him, although the sea rolled between.

How strong such memories are to prevent the commission of crime! How powerful is the spell of home! How important, then, is it to make home pleasant and lovable! Many a time a cheerful
flo.1922.2010.249.jpg home and smiling face will do more to make good men and good women than all the learning and eloquence that can be used. It has been said that the sweetest words in our language are "Mother, Home and Heaven"; and one might almost say that the word "Home" included the others. Who can think of home without remembering the gentle mother who sanctified it by her presence? And is not "Home" the dearest name for heaven? Oh, then, may our homes on earth be as green spots in the desert, to which we can retire when weary of the cares of life and drink the clear waters of a love which we know to be sincere and always unfailing.

flo.1922.2010.250.jpg

LITTLE SOLDIER Boys.

[illustration - EACH ONE OF US OF IMPORTANCE]

Never think yourself, whoever you are, of small importance. Never think that it is of little account whether you are good or bad, or what your example is to others. Each mere particle of dust, every tiny grain of sand, the minutest atom, is an active agent in the whole universe. So each one of us is of importance in our sphere, however isolated and insignificant that sphere may appear to be.

A few particles of dust in a watch will stop its motion; small barnacles on a ship's bottom will hinder its journey; and a little shifting sand in the great river will change its current. So, little boys and girls exercise their influence for weal or woe upon the world. Don't you believe for once that the world is moved only by the great forces, the great men and the great enterprises. Little folks and little things likewise help to move the world along. Great generals are necessary; but what would they be without the soldiers behind them?

Every boy has his part to do in the great work
flo.1922.2010.251.jpg of the world, and every girl has her part to do. Every boy and girl is of importance; how important nobody knows, and perhaps never shall know until eternity reveals it. There ought to be in this truth great encouragement and great comfort to all who think that they are insignificant and have no work to do in this busy world. Perhaps in the distant future many a man who estimated himself great shall be found to have been insignificant, because of unfaithfulness to his trust; and many another man who perhaps thought himself of little worth will find himself glorified because he did what he could.

THE POETRY OF LIFE

Poetry is more than verse-making, m o r e than the jingle of words, more than tile sing-song of meter.

Sunshine and flowers, brightness and joyousness, the harmonies of the passions and the inspiration of love-these are the poetry of life.

flo.1922.2010.252.jpg

Without poetry, life is a tread-mill; a veil of tears; a dreary waste. Even religion is only a crucifixion-a death to sin-if we have not the resurrection into the new life of joy.

Many of us make hard work of life by bending our backs too much. We get dirt in our eyes by keeping them too near the dust, and we get narrow-minded and selfish by our narrow radius of vision.

To become truly rich we must stand in the dignity of our manhood; walk in the integrity of our calling; and run in the rhythm of a poetic nature. Out of harmony is out of sphere. The dignity, integrity and poetry of life are all lost by inharmony; only the ashes of disappointment are left; but with these we can dance at our work, and turn irksome duties into joyous privileges. Instead of moping in the valley of the shadow of death, we may live in the sunshine, where beautiful flowers and luscious fruits and delicious sweets grow.

Yes; yes; we might as well live in light as in darkness; make life a joyful song as a funeral dirge; live amid glory as shame. With a radiant countenance, a beaming eye, and a loving hand, we can do more work and have more to do; we can get more out of life and have more life to enjoy; we can scatter more sunshine and have more left for ourselves.

Christ came to bring to every toiler, heaven. Let us get into it quickly. It is here-and here only-that we find the poetry of life.

flo.1922.2010.253.jpg

ON BEING IN EARNEST.

Of ten men who fail in life, nine men fail for want of zeal, earnestness, courage, where one man fails for want of ability. This half-heartedness, this lack of zeal, this timidity, this shrinking from duty and hard tasks is seen on all sides and among all classes. But I tell you, boys and girls, that the least enviable people in all the world are those who think that nothing is particularly worth while, that it does not matter much how a thing is done if it is only done with; who dwaddle along in a shabby sort of a way, considering only their own ease, with little sense of responsibility, and with no shame in being shirks. Every boy should make up his mind to live a round, full, earnest, in-tense life. Every girl should do the same. Don't be satisfied, boys and girls, to be jellyfishes, with only a capacity for drawing in nourishment and lingering on until your time comes to die. Be vertebrates, people of backbone, purpose, aim, enthusiasm, earnestness.

At a public dinner President Roosevelt asked Governor Odell of New York if he knew anything worth doing that was not hard in the doing, and the governor could think of nothing. As a rule perhaps there is nothing, and yet things once hard in the doing become easy as skill is gained by repetition.

flo.1922.2010.254.jpg

Be in earnest, be faithful and resolute, and it will act like a tonic, giving light to the eyes, springiness to the step, and buoyancy to the heart. Don't be overcome by your circumstances. No

[illustration - BEING IN EARNEST.]

matter how distracting a man's surroundings may be, he may yet be able to focus his powers completely and to marshal them with certainty if he makes up his mind to do it. If things go hard with the self-mastered man or boy, he will be able to trample upon difficulties and to use his stum- bling-blocks as stepping-stones. If a great misfortune overtake him he will simply use it as a starting point for a new departure, a turning point for more determined effort. He may be weighed down with sorrow and suffering, but he always starts anew with redoubled determination to do the thing he has set his heart upon doing. He will not be discouraged; he will not give up; he will fight it out to the end. Put him in prison, and he will write the "Pilgrim's Progress." Deprive him of his eye-sight and he will write the "Paradise Lost."

flo.1922.2010.255.jpg

It was the spirit of earnestness which fired the soul of Martin Luther at the Diet of Worms, who, after being urged to recant, said: "Here I stand; I can do no other; God help me!" It was this spirit which characterized William Lloyd Garrison, the champion of the abolition of slavery, who, when be was urged to stop fighting slavery, ex-claimed: "I will not equivocate, I will not re-tract, I will not be moved one inch, and I will be heard." So be in earnest, boys and girls, at home, at school, at work and at play. It will help you a thousand-fold.

YOUNG PEOPLE AND LIFE INSURANCE.

Every little boy and girl, and, of course, every man and woman, of the colored race in America should carry a life insurance policy of some kind in some reliable company. In this matter the old people, as in some other things, ought to set the example for the young, but there are some reasons, growing chiefly out of their previous condition of slavery, why our mothers and fathers have not, as a rule, taken very largely to the business of having their lives insured. But because our parents have been negligent in this matter there is no reason why the younger generation should be. Life insurance is a good thing, boys and girls-one of the
flo.1922.2010.256.jpg best things in the world. American life insurance companies alone pay to policy-holders or estates of policy-holders over one hundred million dollars annually. Only a very small and almost insignificant portion of this vast sum goes. into the hands [illustration - TAKING OUT A POLICY.] of colored people, and for the reason that very few colored people carry life insurance policies.

Now use a little common sense about this mat-ter. Whatever is good in life insurance for other races is good for our race; whatever in life insurance benefits other races will benefit our race. In
flo.1922.2010.257.jpg business as in education, whatever is good for a white man is good for a black man. I would, therefore, urge every boy and girl to join a life insurance company, and where your mothers and fathers are not insured I would urge you to do your utmost to persuade them to join at once.

For one reason, a life insurance policy is not ex-pensive. You might as well talk of the expense of buying bank stock, or the expense of putting your money into a savings bank or any other safe place as to speak of the expense of keeping up a life insurance policy. It is accumulation and not expense. Every dollar put into life insurance is a dollar saved to yourself or your estate.

For another reason life insurance is a good business investment. Carefully collected statistics on file in Washington City prove that investments in life insurance are much safer and yield much larger returns than money placed in a savings bank. When you are older you will perhaps be able to make these comparisons for yourself. For the present you can take my word for it.

A third reason, life insurance is cheap. You can in an instant create a capital of $1,000, though you may be ever so poor, by laying aside only a few cents a week. Young people chew up and drink up and smoke up and frolic up more money every week than would be sufficient to protect them against the rainy days that must come to every-body.

And, then, life insurance has a character value.
flo.1922.2010.258.jpg It makes a young man a better man; it makes a young woman a better woman; that is to say, it makes them more economical, more business-like, happier, and, I believe, it will make them live longer.

It is high time that black boys and girls were learning these things and acting upon them. When God commanded us not to serve money as a false god He did not say that money could not serve us, and I beseech the boys and girls, and the old people too, to exercise the same foresight and the same good sense about life insurance that other races exercise.

THE LITTLE SAILOR CAT.

In September, 1893, grouped on the Fall River Line pier at the foot of Warren Street, New York, there stood a party of twenty-three sailors waiting for the Puritan to take them on to Boston. The central figure in the group-a short, thickset man, with bronzed and grizzled moustache-stood erect with arms folded over his chest. Upon the solid foundation thus made nestled a little white kitten. The man and the kitten were the Boston contingent of the crew of the steamship City of Savannah, which had been wrecked the week before on Hunting Island, off the South Carolina coast.

The story of the beaching of the steamship and
flo.1922.2010.259.jpg of the taking off of her crew by the City of Birmingham had been told in all the newspapers, but nothing had been said about the cat, so the Boston Herald said. Before the shipwreck the cat was nothing more than an ordinary ship's cat, and the captain had named him Mascot; but that was the end of his distinction. After the disaster, nevertheless, all the sailors swore that the kitten was as good a sailor as any of them.

"He's a wonder," said the short, thickset man, surveying the cat proudly; "nobody thought of him in the rush, but he got there just the same. He climbed the rigging in that gale like an old tar and held on for hours. He wasn't a bit frightened either. Only he would `caterwaul' when he got hungry. We were on board of the boat fifty hours after she struck before the sea was such that we could be taken off in boats. At night the captain ordered all the crew into the rigging and made us stay there. We each took a piece of rope and lashed ourselves on, so as to keep from falling off when asleep. That's what the captain said the string was for, but I never slept at all. I don't think many others did. The cat got along without any rope, and she was there in the morning all right. When we got away at last, nearly crazy with thirst and so faint that we could hardly [illustration - THE LITTLE SAILOR CAT.]
flo.1922.2010.260.jpg climb down the '.Jacob's ladder' into the Birmmgham's boats, that little fellow climbed out of his nest in the rigging and wanted to go too. We were glad to take him."

ADVICE TO LITTLE CHRISTIANS

• 1. Be punctual and regular at all the services of your church.
• 2. Give close attention to the pastor in the public service. Good hearers make good preachers.
• 3. Whenever you are aided by a sermon tell the pastor about it. In this way you will help him more than you think possible.

flo.1922.2010.261.jpg
• 4. Do not neglect morning and evening prayer at home. Pray daily for God's blessing upon the preaching and other labors of the pastor.
• 5. In the world let your light so shine before others that they may be led to glorify your Father which is in heaven. Let your light shine.
• 6. Invite your friends to attend divine services. A drawing congregation is as good as a drawing preacher. Call for your friends often.
• 7. Remember day by day that you are not your own, but have 'been "bought with a price," and that you are Christ's servant. Watch and pray.
• 8. If any service is required of you in the church or in the Sunday school, do not shirk it; always say: "I will try for Jesus' sake."
• 9. In the prayer meeting speak briefly and to the point. If you pray, ask only for what you want. Be short and direct. "Ask and ye shall receive."
• 10. Never subscribe more than you are able to pay, and be sure to pay whatever you promise. Whether much or little, give it cheerfully. "God loveth a cheerful giver."
• 11. Having found eternal life, use all appropriate means to develop Christian character. Prayer, reading the Bible, attending church and Sunday school, reading good books and Christian news-papers, keeping the best company-all these will help you.

flo.1922.2010.262.jpg

A WORD TO PARENTS.

Children are a gift from God. Children are a heritage from the Lord. It depends largely on parents whether they become a heritage of honor and delight or of sorrow and shame. It is not simply incumbent upon parents that their children be well cared for. fed and clothed, properly educated and so forth; out more than this, they are to be brought up "in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." This being true, then, the highest aim of rearing children is not simply that they may win success and command respect in the world. Respect and success are greatly to be desired and sought, but beyond them and beyond everything else is the highest and chiefest aim of parental love and care; that their children may honor and command the righteousness of God in the life that now is and magnify the glory of God in the life that is to be. This is the mark and prize of their high calling.

[illustration - "THE DRUMMER BOY AND HIS DOG."]
flo.1922.2010.263.jpg
flo.1922.2010.264.jpg

Admitting this, then, the early conversion of children is all-important. But if they are to be early converted, is it not wise-nay, absolutely essential-that mothers and fathers prepare the way by restricting their natural impulses by which they are led to desire indulgence in the gay vanities of life? Is it not positively wrong for parents to indulge that pernicious and destructive delusion, which some allow, of permitting their children to have their own evil way in the hope that in due time they will in some way see their error and turn to the right path of their own accord? Father, you are a Christian. Mother, you are a Christian. Now, in your home, in the management of your children, are you doing the best you can to show what a Christian family should be? How is it, my friends? I leave that question with you.

flo.1922.2010.265.jpg

THE UNSEEN CHARMER.

Carl Brickermann, a collection clerk in an up-town bank, in his accustomed daily routine found it necessary, among other things, to call by telephone the downtown brokerage firm of Hopegood Co. One day he missed the familiar feminine voice which had usualIy responded to his calls. But the new voice seemed sweeter and much more passionately penetrating. For two or three days Brickermann was puzzled, not only because of the change at the other end of the 'phone, but also because of the strange and unaccountable fascination which the new voice possessed for him. At length one day, almost in desperation, he turned aside from his regular business inquiries to ask:

"Where's the other girl!"

"Which other girl?" asked the mellifluous voice over the articulate wire.

The one who used to answer the "phone for the Hopegoods," explained Brickermann.

"Promoted," came the response, with a merry little laugh.

"And you have her old place?" asked Brickermann, somewhat encouraged.

"Yes; for awhile," said the same still, small voice at the other end, and it sounded more and more sweetly to the would-be masher.

flo.1922.2010.266.jpg

"Well," said Brickermann, laughing the while, "I used to know her quite well, and I should like to meet you face to face, if you don't mind. I am so charmed with the music of your voice I am sure [illustration - "Is Er-Er-Mr. Hopegood In?"] I should be perfectly entranced with the magic of your face."

A merry peal of laughter from the other end greeted this sally. The young man continued:

"I used to come down some days about four
flo.1922.2010.267.jpg o'clock to see Margie. Will you, my Unseen Charmer, grant me the same high favor?"

"Why, certainly! Come any day," answered the sweet voice which had so strangely bewitched the young man. In ecstasy Brickermann shouted back:

"I'll be down this afternoon."

Brickermann hung up the receiver, and, chuck-ling with delight, he turned to his other duties with the alacrity that a young spring chicken displays when it suddenly discovers a big fat worm.

By three-thirty o'clock he had arranged his toilet, and stood before the mirror giving the finishing twirl to his budding moustache. He brushed his clothing the second time, brushed his hat, and, figuratively speaking, arrayed in purple and fine linen, he sallied forth. He boarded an elevated train bound for the downtown district. On his way down he tried to picture to himself the kind of a girl he should meet at the Hopegoods. Would she be tall or short of stature'? Blonde or brunette? Above twenty-one years of age or only sweet six-teen? The quick arrival of the train at Park Place put a period to Brickermann's reverie. He went tripping across a few blocks to the place where all of his hopes had been centered during the past few hours-in fact, days. Arrived there, he stepped into the front office where "Margie" had formerly presided. It was the same snug and cosy room, but he failed to behold there the eagerly expected young lady. Instead he ran amuck a chubby little
flo.1922.2010.268.jpg boy, with a ruddy face and curly hair, and perhaps not more than fourteen or fifteen years old, sitting in " Margie's" place.

Brickermann was visibly embarrassed. He did not know where to begin or what to say. He twitched nervously at the glove which he carried in his hand, and finally he stammered:

"Is-er-Mr. Hopegood in?"

"No, sir," said the boy. "Can I be of any service to you?"

Brickermann's face turned blood red, and great drops of perspiration stood out upon his forehead. The accents of the little boy startled him, for they were the same that had been wafted to hint almost daily along the wire and with which lie thought he had been enamored. In the midst of his con-fusion he managed to say, hoping almost against hope that his identity had not been discovered:

"Well, er--er--I'll call again."

And, without waiting to hear the Unseen Charmer speak again, lie hastily retired with as good grace as was possible under the circumstances.

OUR COUNTRY.

Boys and girls, we are all American citizens, the last one of us. This is our country, as much as it is the country of any other race, and we
flo.1922.2010.269.jpg should love it and fight for it as our fathers have loved, fought and died for it on many a battle-field. We may be the descendants of Africans, but we are citizens of the United States. This is our home-our country. Let us believe it, in spite of what some foolish people say. Therefore I am going to give you one or two sentiments which you should learn early in life in order to stimulate your patriotism.

• 1. May the honor of our country be without stain.
• 2. May the glory of America never cease to shine.
• 3. May every American manfully withstand corruption.
• 4. May reverence for the laws ever predominate in the hearts of the American people.
• 3. The sons and daughters of America, may their union be cemented by love and affection, and their offspring adorn the stations they are des-tined to fill.
• 6. May the growth of the American union never be prevented by party spirit.
• 7. The boys of America, may they be strong and virtuous, manly and brave.
• S. The girls of America, may they prove to be such in heart and life as will make them worthy mothers of a strong and noble race.
• 9. Health to our president, prosperity to our
  flo.1922.2010.270.jpg People, and may Congress direct its endeavors to the public good.
• 10.- May Peace o'er America spread her wing, And Commerce fill her ports with gold; May Arts and Science comfort bring, And Liberty her sous enfold.

THE "DON'T-CARE" GIRL.

About the worst girl in all this world is the girl 'who doesn't care what people think or say about her conduct; the girl who goes to every "hop," to every party, who stays out late at night with the boys, who hangs over the gate and talks to them, and who cuts a number of' foolish capers, and then when any one speaks to her, shoots her bead 'way up in the air, and turns up her nose, if she can, and says boldly: "Oh, I don't care; nobody has any-thing to do with me!" She is the worst. girl in the world, and she will never come to any good end. Every girl who is a law unto herself in regard to all that she says or does is certain not only to bring upon herself the condemnation of those whose good opinion it is worth while to have, but she will most certainly incur the punishment of a just God. And sometimes, I am sorry to say, I think that when a girl proudly declares that she doesn't care for the good opinion of others
flo.1922.2010.271.jpg she does so because she knows that she has already lost all right to that good opinion.

It is wrong, boys and girls, to undertake to run roughshod over the so-called prejudices of the pub- [illustration - THE "DON'T-CARE" GIRL.] lie. It is a foolish thing to take delight in trying to shock people by your boisterous and unladylike and unbecoming conduct. Every really wise and mce girl does care a good deal for the good opin-
flo.1922.2010.272.jpg ion of others, and particularly for the good opinion of persons older than she is. She recognizes the fact that the laws of conventionality and of good society are based upon what is right and what is proper, and that no girl can with propriety set them at naught.

Some girls go so far as to say that they "don't care" what their own fathers and mothers think. The wild girl who says this is setting at defiance not only the human parental law, but also the law of God, which plainly commands children to obey their parents.

Haven't you ever seen a "don't-care" girl? She is nearly always reckless in manner and speech; she is bold and defiant; she is impudent beyond mention; and she is very fond of ridiculing girls who do care a great deal what others think about them.

No matter whose children they are-no matter what schools they have attended-these "don't-care" girls are no good, and good girls ought not to associate with them Every day such flippant girls are treading on dangerous ground, and some day, unless a merciful God prevents it, she will come to open disgrace and die and go to torment. I am hoping to see the day when all the "don't-care" girls will have passed out of existence, and then all our girls will be of the refined and womanly kind who do care a great deal about their con-duct, their manners and their morals. I don't want my daughter to associate with any other kind.

flo.1922.2010.273.jpg

A PRAYER.

FREDERICK DOUGLASS TO YOUNG PEOPLE.

Shortly before he died Frederick Douglass made a tour through the South. Among other places he visited Atlanta University. At that place he made an address to the young people. It is so full of hope and help that I wanted to place it where every ambitious black boy and girl in America can see it. It has never been published before, except in the Bulletin of Atlanta University. Mr. Douglass said:

"My young friends: I see before me an assemblage of young people, full of the blood of youth, just entering upon the voyage of life. It is an interesting spectacle to me, as to us all, to meet such an assembly as I see before me this morning in an institution of learning, of knowledge, and of ethics and of Christian graces. I experience great
flo.1922.2010.274.jpg pleasure in what I see to-day. There is no language to describe my feelings. It was no mere image that John saw and described in the apocalypse. [illustration - FREDERICK DOUGLASS.] It was a new heaven and a new earth indeed. When a fugitve I look back upon the slave T recollect the evils and cruelty of slave-
flo.1922.2010.275.jpg hunting. No mountain was so high, no valley was so deep, no glen so secluded, no place so sacred to liberty that I could put my foot upon it and say I was free! But now I am free! Contrasting my condition then and now the change exceeds what John saw upon the isle of Patmos. A change vast and wonderful, that came by the fulfilling of laws. We got freed by laws, marvellous in our eyes. Men, brave men, good men, who had the eourage of their convictions, were arrested and subjected to persecutions, mobs, lawlessness, violence. They had the conviction of truth. Simple truth lasts forever!

"Be not discouraged. There is a future for you and a future for me. The resistance encountered now predicates hope. The negro degraded, indolent, lazy, indifferent to progress, is not objectionable to the average public mind. Only as we rise in the scale of proficiency do we encounter opposition. When we see a ship that lies rotting in the harbor, its seams yawning, its sides broken in, taking water and sinking, it meets with no op-position; but when its sails are spread to the breeze, its top-sails and its royals flying, then there is resistance. The resistance is in proportion to its speed. In Memphis three negro men were lynched, not because they were low and degraded, but because they knew their business and other men wanted their business.

"I am delighted to see you all. Don't be despondent. Don't measure yourselves from the white
flo.1922.2010.276.jpg man's standpoint; but measure yourselves by the depths from which you have come. I measure from these depths, and I see what Providence has done. Daniel Webster said in his speech at the dedication of Bunker Hill monument: `Bunker Hill monument is completed. There it stands, a memorial of the past, a monitor of the present, a hope of the future. It looks, speaks, acts!' So this assembly is a monitor of the present, a memorial of the past, a hope of the future. I see boys and girls around me. Boys, you will be men some day. Girls, you will be women some day. May you become good men and women, intelligent men and women, a credit to yourselves and your country.

"I thank you for what I have experienced to-day and I leave you reluctantly, and shall always carry with me the pleasantest impressions of this occasion."

flo.1922.2010.277.jpg

A GOOD FELLOW.

He was a good fellow.

He spent his money like a Prince.

There was nothing too good for him to do for those with whom he kept company.

He lived rapidly, and had no thought of to-morrow. He burned the candle of life at both ends.

To-day lie is dead,--and those vampires who sucked his life's blood and helped him to spend his money have no time to give him one thought.

Ah, how insincere and empty is the title of "good fellow" when it is applied to the man whose money is always on tap for those who are desirous of having a good time! And how corrupt and undesirable are the so-called friendships which spring from a lavish expenditure of money! Boys, the roof over your heads covers the best friends you could possibly have on earth. Those who slap you on the shoulder and say hilariously, "Good boy!" are seldom ever worth their salt. They like you for what they can get out of you-that's all!

Real happiness in this world comes, if at all, from living right and doing right. If you are a good fellow. in the sense of giving everybody a "good time" with your hard-earned means, I warn you that, when your money gives out, all your friends will desert you, and when you die
flo.1922.2010.278.jpg they will be the last ones to come near you, and may even laugh at what a fool you made of your-self!

THE FUTURE OF THE NEGRO.

My dear boys and girls, I have written nearly one hundred stories for this book and I have not said one word about the so-called Race Problem. I have done this on purpose. I believe that the less you think about the troubles of the race and the less you talk about them and the more time you spend in hard and honest work, believing in God and trusting him for the future, the better it will be for all concerned. I know, of course, that the sufferings which are inflicted upon the colored people in this country are many and grievous. I know that we are discriminated against in many ways-on common carriers, in public resorts and even in private life. The right to vote is being taken away from us in nearly all the Southern states. Lynchings are on the increase. Not only our men but our women also are being burned at the stake. What shall we do? There are those who say that we must strike back-use fire and torch and sword and shotgun ourselves. But I tell you plainly that we cannot afford to do that. The white people have all the courts, all the railroads,
flo.1922.2010.279.jpg all the newspapers, all the telegraph wires, all the arms and ammunition and double the men that we have. In every race riot the negro would get the worst of it finally. But there is a higher reason than that. We cannot afford to do wrong. We cannot afford to lose our decency, our self-respect, our character. No man will ever be the superior of the man he robs; no man will ever be the superior of the man he steals from. I would rather be a victim than a victimizer. I would rather be wronged than to do wrong. And no race is superior to the race it tramples upon, robs, maltreats and murders. In spite of prejudice; in spite of proscription; in spite of nameless insults and injuries, we cannot as a race, afford to do wrong. But we can afford to be patient. God is not dead. His chariots are not unwheeled. It is ordained of God that races, as well as individuals, shall rise through tribulations. And during this period of stress and strain through which we are passing in this country I believe that there are unseen forces marshalled in the defense of our long-suffering and much-oppressed people. "They that be with us are more than they that be with then." What should we care, then, though all the lowlands be filled with threats, if the mountains of our hope and courage and patience are filled with horses and chariots of Divine rescue?

flo.1922.2010.280.jpg

My last words shall be to parents. Many parents neglect the training of their children until the boys and girls have grown to be almost men and women, and then they expect all at once to develop them into well-rounded characters, as if by magic. Others fix upon a definite time in life-say, ten or twelve years old-before which time they say it is unnecessary to seek to make lasting impressions upon the minds of children, all unconscious of the fact that the character may have been long before that period biased for good or evil.

I say it deliberately-it is a deep and abiding conviction with me, that the time to begin to shape the character of children is as soon as they begin to know their own mothers from other mothers, or as soon as they become awake to the events which are taking place around them. The farmer who has the notion that his child can wait, does not dare to let his corn and cotton wait. He has observed that there are noxious weeds which spring up side by side with the seed he has planted, and, marvelous to say, the weeds out-grow the plants. They must, therefore, be cut down and kept down, or else they will ruin the crop.

flo.1922.2010.281.jpg

Side by side with your tender babe in arms there are growing now, dear mothers, the poisonous tares. They are rooted already in the child's heart, and, unless they are stricken down pretty soon, they will dominate the child's life. And, of course, there is only one way to destroy evil-that is, to plant good in its stead. If there is one untenanted chamber in your child's heart, inhabit it, I pray you, with nobler and purer thoughts which before long shall bring forth fruit unto God. Satan does not wait, I assure you; he never allows a vacancy to remain unoccupied in any-body's heart, old or young. He rushes into empty hearts and idle lives and sows tares thicker than the strewn leaves of autumn. It is an old and senseless and barbarian custom which has taught us that the child can wait or must wait. If any-body must wait at table to be served, it is usually the little child, who may be the hungriest of all; if some one must remain away from church or Sunday-school, it is often the youngest child, who, perhaps needs most to go; if some one must be kept out of the day-school, it is the smallest child, of course; and during the year that he remains idle he may receive impressions and learn lessons that will mar his whole future life. Let us have done with this barbaric practice. Make room for the children; give them not only the first place but the.best place.

In almost any city in the South any Sunday in the year you will find more children-more boys
flo.1922.2010.282.jpg and girls-outside of the Sunday-schools than you will find inside. There is a loud and crying call sounding from the past and from the future and bidding mothers and fathers to be more diligent in the matter of having their children embrace opportunities of growth and spiritual culture which are almost within a stone's throw. If mothers and fathers will not hear and obey this clarion call T believe that they will be brought to account for it iii the day of judgment. Not only so, but in the years to come they will be compelled to wail out their sorrow over prodigal sons and daughters who might have proven to be ornaments to society and to the church if their parents had devoted half the care upon them that they upended upon colts and calves, kittens and pup-pies that grew up with them!

In all earnestness I implore those to whom God has given winsome little children to begin early, as early as thy find it possible, to train their young lives for God and heaven. Let their little voices learn early to lisp the precious name of Jesus and be attuned to sing His praise. If you leave them this legacy-than which there is none greater-there will come peace and joy to your old age, and the light of heaven, like the golden glow of a radiant sunset, will rest on your dying bed.

And now, as I close these stories, there comes to me across the intervening space of silence and of tears fond memories of a sweet and patient
flo.1922.2010.283.jpg mother. I cannot remember when she began to talk to me of Jesus nor read to me the word of God. I remember well when she taught me how to read, and the old-fashioned blue back spelling-hook is as plainly before me now as in those long past (lays. But, long before that, I had heard her read the Bible and raise her voice in prayer for all whom she loved. And to-day those memories live when a thousand busy scenes of after life lie dead. And when old age comes on-if God should spare me to be old- the memory of my mother's words and her reverential prayers will be the brightest of all the joys that shall light up the evening of my life.

flo.1922.2010.284.jpg
flo.1922.2010.285.jpg

Somewhere in Africa nearly 175 years ago a band of children were playing on the sea-coast. They were youngsters of seven and eight who were so en-grossed in their childish games that they did not notice the appearance of a boat with a number of white men in it. When they did become aware of this it was far too late, for the men had stolen up to them and seizing several had rushed off to the boat in which they were carried to a ship anchored not far away.

Among the children who were captured and led off to such a cruel fate was a little girl of six or seven years. She was a slender, delicate little thing who had never gone far from her mother's side. Picture then her fear and anguish when she found herself torn away from everything and everybody whom she had ever known, on her way to a strange land full of queer looking people who were going to subject her to she knew not what experiences and hardships.

After a long and stormy voyage, during which the little girl was very seasick, she arrived, thin and wretched, with only a piece of carpet about her fragile body, in Boston, where she was offered in the streets for sale. This was in 1761.

flo.1922.2010.286.jpg [illustration - PHILLIS WHEATLEY]
flo.1922.2010.287.jpg

Of course the best thing that could have happened to this little child of misfortune would have been to be left with her mother in Africa. As that could not be, it is pleasant to realize that the next best lot was hers. A well-to-do tailor, John Wheatley by name, happened to be in that neighborhood that day. He had long been looking for a slave girl to be a special servant for his wife and his twin children, Mary and Nathaniel. He spied the wretched little African maiden, and despite her thinness and her miserable appearance, or maybe on account of it, it occurred to him that this was just the kin∞d of child to whom to give a home. So he bought her for a few dollars and took her to his house to live.

The Wheatley family was a kind one. They received the little stranger gladly, named her Phillis Wheatley and proceeded to make her acquainted with the strange new world to which she had come and to the part which she was to play in it. In particular little Mary Wheatley became very fond of her slave playfellow and between her and Phillis there seems to have developed a strong attachment. At first Phillis' place in the house was simply that of servant, though partly because of her extreme youth and the considerateness of the Wheatleys it seems likely that her duties were not very arduous. But before long, owing to what was considered a remarkable tendency in a slave child of such tender years, her lot became very tolerable indeed.

This was what happened. One day Mary Wheat-ley came across Phillis busily engaged in making letters on the wall with a piece of charcoal. Phillis had already shown herself apt at picking up the
flo.1922.2010.288.jpg spoken language, but that she should display an interest in writing was a new idea to the Wheatleys and gave them much pleasure. From that day on Mary constituted herself Phillis' teacher. They progressed from letters to words and from words to complete sentences. And behold the keys to the treasure-houses of the world were in little Phillis' hands, for she had learned to delve into books. Short of granting her her freedom, the Wheatleys could not have bestowed on her a greater gift.

She seems to have been of an extraordinarily studious disposition. Mostly her mind took a literary bent, for she read all kinds of books in English and even mastered Latin enough to become acquainted with some of its masterpieces. It is not surprising then that a mind so eager to take in should at last become desirous of giving out. And so we have the remarkable phenomenon of Phillis the little slave girl, totally unversed in the ways and manners of western civilization, passing through a period of study and preparation and developing into Phillis the writer.

Her chosen medium of self-expression was through poetry. In 1767, at the age of 13, she had written a poem to Harvard University which was even then in existence. This was passed about among the "intellectuals" of New England, and was the occasion of much genuine astonishment and admiration. And well it might be, for it was written in a lofty vein and was full of fine sentiments, such as one would hardly expect from the pen of a little girl. In 1768 she wrote a poem to His Majesty King George of England-America was still a colony in those days,
flo.1922.2010.289.jpg we must remember-and in 1770 she wrote an elegiac poem or a lament on the death of George Whitefield, a celebrated divine.

As the years went on the number of her poems grew. Their reputation grew, too,, not only at home but abroad. In 1772 her health became impaired and the Wheatley household did a wonderful thing. Nathaniel had to go on a business trip to England and it was arranged that Phillis the prodigy and poet should accompany him, for the sake of the sea-voyage. Imagine her astonishment when on arriving in England, she found that her fame had already preceded her! London society took her up and could not make enough of her. She was courted and petted to an extent which might well have turned a less well-balanced head than hers. In particular she was made a special protegee of a Lady Huntingdon and a Lord Dartmouth who at that time was Lord Mayor of London. Through their persuasion and influence she collected a number of verses which she had been writing for the last six years and actually had them published,to our great good fortune.

The quaint title reads: "Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral. By Phillis Wheatley, Negro Servant to Mr. Wheatley of Boston. Dedicated to Lady Huntingdon." The particularly interesting thing about this book is that as so many people doubted the ability of a girl so young and of slave origin to write such verse, it contains a certificate attesting to the authenticity of the poems, and the signatures of many prominent men.

The certificate says in part: "We whose Names are under-written, do assure the World that the Poems specified in the following page, were (as we verily believe) written by Phillis, a young Negro Girl, who was but a few Years since. brought an uncultivated Barbarian from Africa, and has ever since been, and now is, under the Disadvantage of serving as a Slave in a family in this Town. She has been examined by some of the best Judges, and is thought qualified to write them."

Those days in London were probably the happiest and brightest of Phillis' brief life. But while yet abroad she received the news of the precarious state of Mrs. Wheatley's health. And so, although arrangements had been made for her to meet the king. she hastened back to America, just in time to see her mistress once more before she died.

Poor Phillis! After Mrs. Wheatley's death she seems to have fallen on "Evil times and hard."

For Mary Wheatley was married and of course lived apart from her. Nathaniel Wheatley had his own affairs and here was Phillis all alone in the world. Naturally enough she turned to marriage and be-came the wife of John Peters, a Negro, "who kept a shop, wore a wig, carried a cane, and felt himself superior to all kinds of labor." Historians disagree on his real calling. Some say he was a grocer, others a baker, a man of all work, a lawyer and a physician. All agree,. however, that he lost his property during the War of the Independence and that he and Phillis became very poor. Sad to relate, all agree also that he did not try very hard to relieve their condition.
flo.1922.2010.291.jpg Finally he allowed himself to be arrested for debt, and poor Phillis was in a sorry plight indeed.

She was a proud woman. She would not seek help of either Mary or Nathaniel Wheatley. Nor at their death would she approach their friends. Fortunately at Mrs. Wheatley's death she had been set free and this gave her a chance to earn an independent livelihood. She dragged out a miserable existence in a colored boarding house doing work for which she was little fitted. Her pride and misery, made her very retiring. So that when she died in December, 1784, few would have known of her death had it not been for the notice which appeared next day in the Independent Chronicle. It read:

"Last Lord's day, died Mrs. Phillis Peters (formerly Phillis Wheatley, aged thirty-one, known to the literary world by her celebrated miscellaneous poems. Her funeral is to be this afternoon at four o'clock, from the house lately improved by Mr. Todd, nearly opposite Dr. Bulfinch's at West Boston, where her friends and acquaintances are desired to attend."

Phillis Wheatley possessed undoubted poetical ability. It is true that viewed from our modern standards she seems stilted, even affected in style, but we must remember that with few exceptions such was the tendency of those days. Undoubtedly she was the possessor of a fine vocabulary and a really broad grasp of classical and literary allusions and figures. But these are hardly in themselves the reasons why colored Americans should hold Phillis Wheatley in such high esteem. There are others more striking. In the first place, she is the first Negro in America to win prestige for purely intellectual
flo.1922.2010.292.jpg attainments. And she won it, oh, so well ! Secondly, her writings influenced and strengthened anti-slavery feeling. When the friends of slavery made as a reason for holding human beings in bond-age the statement that Negroes were mentally inferior, the foes of slavery pointed with pride to the writings of this girl who was certainly the peer of any American poet of those days. Lately, Phillis Wheatley showed by her writings that she favored the cause of the colonists rather than that of England. Thus she proved that the sympathies of Negroes are always enlisted in the fight for freedom even when, as Roscoe Jamison, not her blood but her poetical descendant, wrote "their own is yet denied."

In those brief years Phillis made a gallant showing. In all she wrote five volumes of poems and letters and received the recognition of England's peerage, of America's George Washington, and of many other possessors of honored and famous names. We are sensible of a deep gratitude toward this little lonely figure who came from Africa determined to give voice to her precious dower of song, even though she had to express it in a far country and in a stranger's tongue.

flo.1922.2010.293.jpg [illustration - MRS. ALICE HOWARD Author of A. B. C. Book for Negro Boys and Girls and Other Short Stories Following This Page.]
flo.1922.2010.294.jpg

INTRODUCTION

I feel safe in saying that every child in the United States between the ages of three and ten receives among its toys and especially at the Holiday season, an A, B, C Book, many of which are a reflection on the child of color. In almost every instance N stands for Nig, a black dog or cat ; Ned, a Negro boy, a waiter, and so on. First hand observation of these facts shows the urgent need and place in the home for a book of this class which our boys and girls need not be ashamed of. Race pride is legitimate and praiseworthy. It is developed through knowledge and understanding of the history, traditions, achievements, and characteristics of the race. Things that have been looked upon as a detriment and drawback can through' the right teaching to our children be turned into an asset and thus lay the foundation for the love of, and the loyalty to our RACE.

flo.1922.2010.295.jpg [illustration - JEWELS OF THE HOME]
flo.1922.2010.296.jpg

A, B, C Book For .Negro Boys and Girls

flo.1922.2010.297.jpg
flo.1922.2010.293.jpg [illustration - MRS. ALICE HOWARD
Author of A. B. C. Book for Negro Boys and Girls and Other Short Stories Following This Page. ]
flo.1922.2010.294.jpg

INTRODUCTION

I feel safe in saying that every child in the United States between the ages of three and ten receives among its toys and especially at the Holiday season, an A, B, C Book, many of which are a reflection on the child of color. In almost every instance N stands for Nig, a black dog or cat ; Ned, a Negro boy, a waiter, and so on. First hand observation of these facts shows the urgent need and place in the home for a book of this class which our boys and girls need not be ashamed of. Race pride is legitimate and praiseworthy. It is developed through knowledge and understanding of the history, traditions, achievements, and characteristics of the race. Things that have been looked upon as a detriment and drawback can through' the right teaching to our children be turned into an asset and thus lay the foundation for the love of, and the loyalty to our RACE.

flo.1922.2010.295.jpg [illustration - JEWELS OF THE HOME]
flo.1922.2010.297.jpg [illustration - ALL ABOARD FOR WASHINGTON, D. C.]
flo.1922.2010.298.jpg
flo.1922.2010.299.jpg [illustration - Copyright International News Reel Corporation
TELLING HER THE STORY OF LINCOLN ]
flo.1922.2010.300.jpg
flo.1922.2010.301.jpg [illustration - A LAWN PARTY IN WASHINGTON]
flo.1922.2010.302.jpg
flo.1922.2010.303.jpg [illustration - DOLLY'S HUNGRY
Copywright O. Keller ]
flo.1922.2010.304.jpg
flo.1922.2010.307.jpg [illustration - READY FOR THE PARTY]
flo.1922.2010.307.jpg [illustration - OUR FAITHFUL FRIENDS
Cuts loaned by Polk Miller Drug Co., Richmond Va.]
flo.1922.2010.314.jpg [illustration - Copywright International News Reel Corporation
SHE—WHEN WE'R GROWN LET'S GET MARRIED. HE—M-A MABY SO!]
flo.1922.2010.315.jpg [illustration - Copywright O. Keller
THE YOUNG SCHOOL MASTER]
flo.1922.2010.316.jpg
flo.1922.2010.318.jpg
flo.1922.2010.319.jpg
flo.1922.2010.320.jpg