The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1900-12-23

of sorrows, and they will have their
share. 1t is the common lot. One
melancholy poet says: 'Man was
made to mourn" Another says: Il
would not live always" but like that
one better who wrote THE world is
very lovely. Oh, my God, / thank
Thee that l live From my window
almost every day / see two little girls,
only four and six years old, turning
the corner and coming up through the
grove to see grandma and grandpa
and be petted and of course, be feasted
with biscuit and jelly and apples and
to nurse the cat and play with their
little cousins fine Paris doll. They al
ways come hand in hand and with
clean faces and ribboned hair and we
meet them at the door, for they bring
sunshine to our hearts and home. |
love to have them climb into the back
of my big chair and bother me while
l write, and [ have to stop and draw
pictures for them and to hear the little
one call me her good old for nothing
grandpa. The other day l met them
going another way and they said they
were going to see their other grand
ma. YES" said I, you have two
grandmas, but haven't got but one
IIC nIlI6 OIlG up
lovingly to me and said: 1--WE don't
need any more" L bought fine tur-
key for the boys who are coming and
the little girl surveyed him and said:
S'Gran'pa, he is running at the nose
and it's bloody" 1t was the older one
who said: 1.-The turkey is sick, reckon
for he keeps vomiting
Dean Swift was a cynic and had no
love for children. He said that an
author who talked about his own
books was as silly as a mother who
was ever telling something smart
about her children. / reckon he
would say that grand parents were
more silly than mothers. / confess
that it is good part of my happiness
now to mingle with and to pet the
little grand children and that is why
/ feel alarmed for fear something will
happen to them before | die or that |
viii die before they get old enough to
love me with a love that will not for
get, and / think of Tom Moore and
his gazelle that died. / don't know
where my spirit will be but it seems
to me now that / would like to have |
these little ones bring flowers to my
grave sometimes and talk about me.
What would the world be without
children, for of such is the kingdom of |
heaven. Just imagine for a moment |
the desolation, the despair that would
pervade the home and society and
trade and commencement day school
in all the land, nor a Sunday school;
not little shoe or stocking, nor lit
tie hat, nor doll or toy in any store;
no castoria or soothing strip or 9TH
er infantile medicines; no fireworks,
no Christmas nor Santa Claus; no
nothing hardly, for it is a fact that
the world is working for children.
The cynics say that marriage is a
failure. Suppose it is in many cases?
Children are not failures. Divorces |
may stifie the love of man and wife, |
but they still love the children and
contend for the possession of them.
Good schools build up towns and
communities and the children make |
the schools. Country people move to
town to educate them. What would |
become of the 1000 teachers in the |
State of Georgia? What would the |
publishers do with all their school |
books and picture. books? Who would
gofto afspionic or monkey show? |
What excuse would men folks have
for going to the circus? Wouldn't it |
But marriage is not failure. 1t |
could not be, for it was ordained by
God. One or two unhappy marriages
in community sets ali the dogs |
barking. Divorces are multiplying,
but only among The very rich or the |
drunken poor. Money or whiskey is |
the cause of most OF them, and in nine |
cases out of ten the man is to blame. |
There is but one scriptural ground for |
divorce and nine men are guilty of |
that to one woman. Poor long suf- |
fering women! How silently, secret |
ly and sadly you have to endure what |
you know, but cannot tell, and all you |
can do is to hug your children all the |
closer to your bosom and trust in |
God.
| was terminating about children
because | am away from mine and |
on my way here { passed country |
school house just as the children were |
Diling out for recess, and they came |
like bees out of hive. As long as the /
train stopped at that station l watch
ed them st their merry plays and |
sports in the pretty grove near by |
and | almost wished that / was a |
boy again SO that ] might join them. |
Good gracious, how / could run and |
Jump and climb and shout; how long |
and happy was the day.
1.-THE sun ne'er rose a wink too soon.
Nor brought too long day,
But now ! often wish the night
Had borne my breath away"
Tom Hood wrote that. poor fellow.
I do not say it, for | love to live and
have few regrets to distress me. |
am here in Okolona, a pretty town
with a pretty name. This good old
State, daughter of Georgia, is full
of Indian names of towns and coun-
ties and rivers. These names are all
that is left of the tribes-the Chicka-
saws and Choctaws and Greeks and
Matches. They were proud and hap
py people, but had to vanish when the
pale faces came and coveted their
lands. Colonel Gordon, d Confederate
veteran, lives here and interested me
greatly in the history of Mississippi,
for he and his father before him
could say magma pars fuli''-"a good
part of it | was" He gave me the
origin and meaning of many of these
Indian names, such as Pontotoc and
'T111NoIrN md GslyolO,,o Ic1, of