The free press. (Poplarville, Miss.) 1890-19??, 1899-03-09
BOYS, THIS is FOR YOU.
4 Sermon To Boys From the Gifted
Governor OF the State of
Tennessee.
An Experience of Three Country
Boys On a Visit to Their CITY
Cousins.


period of human life is youth; and
the happiest specimen of youth is
big, healthy, awkward, wa,ery
iointtd. rioting. ffolicing boy, with
his heart full of dreams, and his
head tull Of schemes; aud his peck.
cts full OF apples and things. lie
is a bouncing laugh and bounding
veil. He lie the beloved bandit of
every mothers heart and the &c"
hgbtful outlaw Of every daddy's
home. What cares he for the
painted walls, and gsrni>hed looms,
and velvet rugs, and pictured tap
es,ry. and pastelIes, and water col
OTIS and crayons in frames Of gilt
and gold? What cares be for fres-
coed halls, and polished floors aud
stairs OF mahogany What cares
he for all the chapde hers that shine,
so he has liberty to romp on the
green carpets of the meadows and
the hills, under heavens chande-
lier ami a place to sleep IN the
lumber room among the cobwebs
and the OLD rusty trunks, where his
rest is as sweet as though he were
| pillOwpd on the couch of king,
with silllen curtains drawn about
/ him? What cares he for champagne
and sherry, if he can lie down and
drink from the bnbbling spring, or
tear the colks and laughter pop,
and listen to the wild melody of
natures songs that sparkle in his
soul? What cares he for "con-
| somme," So he can get plenty CT
soup? What cares he for "surlon, "
so he has plenty of beef to eat !
What cares he for 'roast prairie
! chicken" so he gets chicken? " hat
cares he for the ga las" and the
ode la'sn and ''au iuses' of the mp
to- date menu? They are vanity and
vexalion of spirit to him, in CONS
uariSon with II good o!dfashioned,
we!l-coukpd, bix-dish home dinner,
steaming like an engine, and tempt
ing bis appetite with the mingled
aromas Of boiled cabbage and
steWed turnips and mashed potatoes
aud smoking biscuit and corn
dodgers lodging behind the golden
battlements Of fresh country butter,
with big white pitchers sweating
on The outside of cold buttermllk !,
and pumpkin pies laughing all ever
| the table. If wish to find sure
enough boy, | do not search for
him 10 the parlor, but in the pantry;
do not expect to fiud hin In the
drawing room, but IL the dining
room. II does not Turk in the liz
brary, bat in the back yard with
| his Billy goats or in The fields shoot
lug and shouting In the glorious
company of his faithful dogs. The
reason is that a boy loves his stom.
ach better than poems and pictures;
| he loves nature better than art.
The truth is, he is natures child;
aud the child loves to play close 10
tue warm ,hro5bing heart of its
w0ther. Nature furnishes him with
mud puddles to wade IN, and stones
to throw, and birds to throw at,
aud hills to coast on, and streams
to fish in, and sunsliDe-to warm In,
and shade to cool ia, and lults and
| berries Of every kind TO eat, and
"Molly Cottontails" to hunt, and
thousand other joys which bless his
life. But soon the hour comes
when nature must wean her boy,
and lead HIM ont of her nursery
into the sweet gardens OF fancy and
the green fields Of poetry, which lie
on the frontier of cold facts-the
border land of reality. 10 prepare
him for his future career, she fl ST
touches his vocal chords ana
changes his voice from the tone of
the file TO the nell haous tones of
the bass viol, and puts a little hair
on his upper lip and whispers one
WORT IN his heart which, in the
twinkling Of an eye changes his
dreams and his destiny. That word
is "love." What world of beauty
il untolds to mimi And how sudden
is his transposition from the mud
nu1die 10 tho bath tuh: from the