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The Presbyterian of the South : [combining the] Southwestern Presbyterian, Central Presbyterian, Southern Presbyterian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1909-1931, February 13, 1918, Image 5

Image and text provided by Library of Virginia; Richmond, VA

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/10021978/1918-02-13/ed-1/seq-5/

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as to the great, the only and the blessed sal
vation. This is the work of the Church : fulfil
the Great Commission; make disciples; bap
tize them; teach them to observe all thiugs
whatsoever our Lord has commanded. This
is the best, the only, way to abolish war and
other physical and moral evils from the earth.
When the nations are evangelized, when all
God's people from among the Jews and the
Gentiles are effectually called, then the Lord
will return with his holy angels, glorious with
the splendor of God.
Even in the time of war horror, we Chris
tians should remember that we travel not to
a graveyard, but to the true Paradise of God.
Our road leads not to a funeral, but to a mar
riage feast. Our song is not a dirge, but a
pean of triumph. "For the grace of God that
bringeth salvation hath appeared 1o all men,
teaching us that denying ungodliness and
worldly lusts, we should live soberly, right
eously and godly in this present world ; look
ing for that blessed hope, and the glorious
appearing of the great God and our Saviour
Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us that he
might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify
unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good
works. These things speak and exhort" (Titus
St. Louis, Mo.
Our Boys and Girls
By Kate C. Grinstead.
Alary Ellen sat curled up in the window
seat, her school books piled all about her.
Outside the snowflakes fell thick and fast ?
merr\ little elfs scurrying and scampering
after each other, flying coquettishly against
the windowpanes and dancing away again to
join the great mass that was rapidly covering
the brown earth.
But Mary Ellen wasn't watching the snow
flakes. She wasn't watching her merry com
panions. Nor was she studying. She was
pouting. She was angry. Her little face was
as cloudy and frownv as the snowflakes were
white and merry.
Squares of drawing paper were scattered
over the pillows. Crayons and bits of red and
blue and green, and yellow tissue paper were
massed together in confusion, and Mary Ellen's
little fingers grasped a bit of cardboard tightly
as she exclaimed angrily:
"1 won't make Alice May Carter, any valen
tine! I won't waste my time on that scrubby,
ugly, red-haired little midget! I can't see why
I was selected to send my valentine to her. I
wanted to send mine to Rose Lee. 1 had it
all made up as to what I meant to fix ? a pretty
heart all twined about with roses, and the
dearest little Cupie Cupid holding a little gold
arrow, and a pretty verse beneath traced in
silver ? but I'm just not going to do anything
of the kind for Alice May Carter ? so I'm
not !
"Rose Lee's the prettiest girl in the class
and she's new here, and hfer father's a banker
and they've got a new. Hudson car, and I
meant to be real good friends with her ? so
I did!" Mary Ellen's voice grew louder and
Innder as she voiced her thoughts rapidly.
"Old school teachers and boards are always
doing something to upset our plans. We
always make valentines for each other at
school, but now we are dictated to as to what
we do, and 'course just 'cause this little
freckly Alice May Carter is one of our class,
it's my luck to draw her for my valentine!
Elsie Brown drew Rose Lee and now she'll be
her chum and get the rides and she'll ? "
Mary Ellen's tears began to flow, her words
punctuated with sobs as she felt her grievance
stronger and more strongly.
"I'm not goin' 10 make her any valentine!
T'm goin' to send her this old ugly one I made
to send to Ruthie for fun! It's good 'nuff
an' it looks jus' like her, she's always got on a
patch somewhere, an' she never wears ribbons
on her hair ? I know she could do better ?
an' she can just take what she gets ? so ? she ?
can ? ! ' '
Mary Ellen looked at the bit of cardboard
she held in her hand, which was now somewhat
crumpled from the strenuous clasp forced upon
it during this tirade. It was gaily colored,
portraying a little girl with flaming red hair
and a ragged dress, beneath which was
scrawled in red letters a satirical verse on red
hair and freckles.
"It's good 'nuff!" reiterated Mary Ellen as
she jabbed it spitefully into an envelope and
scrawled in big, bold letters, ".Miss Alice May
Carter," across the face.
"Now," said Mary Ellen, wiping the tears
from her eyes and taking up her crayons, as a
sudden thought presented itself, "I'll flx a
pretty one for Hose Lee and put my initials
on it and send it by Bobby and she'll be sure
to know who sent it, and I'll get ahead of
Miss Essie Brown! See if I don't!"
For one hour Mary Ellen clipped and cut,
pasted, colored and scribbled. The result was
wonderful. No real artist could have improved
upon it, and Mary Ellen's heart leaped joy
ously as she viewed her handiwork.
Slipping the valentine carefully into an en
velope, which she had cut from pink drawing
paper, she addressed it in a dainty hand to
"Miss Rose Lee, Clebourne Place, City."
Valentine Day dawned clear and bright, and
Mary Ellen skipped gaily down the walk
clutching the two letters tightly in her hand.
"Bobby, " she called as her little brother sped
past her on his roller skates. "Bobby, will
you stop and give this letter to Rose Lee as
you pass her house. It isn't time for school
yet and maybe she'll come out herself and
get it."
Bobby was little and chubby and half-past
four. He resented being stopped in his play
to run errands for a big sis who sometimes
bossed him about more than he liked.
"Aw, I ain't dot time! I'se busy!" he ob
jected stoutly.
"Please, Bobby, I'll let you play with my
crayons if you will," begged Mary Ellen.
"Alwite," said Bobby promptly. "Me'jl
take it!" Bobby loved dearly to play with
the crayons, which Mary Ellen seldom allowed
him to handle.
Down the street he sped, waving the letter
above his head and shouting merrily.
Mary Ellen followed slowly behind. In the
distance she saw Alice May Carter coming
toward them, her hair shining red and flam
ing even at a distance.
"Hump," grunted Mary Ellen, "I can almost
see her freckles from here!"
Down the street flew Bobby. Faster and
faster he sped until he lost all control of his
legs. He was on the brow of the hill ? one
moment more would send him down ? down to
almost certain death. Mary Ellen's heart
jumped and then stood still. It was impossi
ble for her to reach him in time to save him.
She screamed and then ? someone rushed
across the little fellow's path ? lie was pitched
into the air and fell in a heap across another
form that lay erumpled and helpless in tin'
Mary Ellen rushed through the crowd and
caught the little trembling form into her arms.
Hobby smiled tearfully as he vigorously pro
tested with arms and legs against being held
in such a tight embrace.
"1 ain't hurted! I didn't do it! My legs
jess did it T dess! 1 ain't hurted ? but she is ?
lookee, sis!"
Mary Ellen loosed her grasp upon the little
fellow and noticed for the first time the little
form that lay so still upon the snow. It was
a girl, Mary Ellen could see a piece of her
dress as she pushed toward the group. A man
was bending over the child and someone was
calling for a doctor. Mary Ellen pressed
closer. She caught a glimpse of the little face
and caught her breath. It was Alice May!
Freckle-faced, red-haired, Alice May, who had
saved her little brother's life. Alice May, who
lay with a broken arm and a great cut across
her face where the skate had struck her. Tin*
blood was Mowing copiously, matting the red
hair and giving the little face a weird, ghastly
"O, " cried Mary Ellen, hiding her face.
"0, Alice May ! Alice May!"
Dr. Raymond came upon the scene at this
instant and promptly ordered Alice May to be
taken to the hospital immediately.
' Had she been one instant later the boy
would have gone over," someone was saying.
"Brave little girl," said another.
''She saved the boy's life," declared tin*
doctor as he bound up the bleeding little head
with his big white pocket handkerchief.
Mary Ellen sobbed as if her heart would
break. As she turned toward the street a bit
of paper lying in a drift attracted her atten
tion. It was the valentine ? the valentine in
tended for Alice May which Mary Ellen in
her excitement had dropped. Further over in
an open space lay the pink envelope wet and
crumpled, the address almost obliterated.
Mary Ellen flushed a deep flush of shame.
Humbly and sorrowfully she picked up the
two envelopes and tucked them into her pock
et. Further down the street she passed Rose
Lee. "O," cried Rose, "that was awful to
see Bobby coming that way. I saw him before
Alice May did, but I was 'fraid to jump in
front of him ? and well I didn't ? for see how
badly she was hurt ! I couldn't even look al
her. Blood always makes me sick. Ugh ! And
anyway, I'm wearing my new boots and 1
couldn't go over into the drifts with them on
to look at her. It sure does spoil new boots
to wet 'em. Don't you think they are pretty
Mary Ellen t t*apa savs ? Why, Mary Ellen,
what's the matter?"
Mary Ellen was walking stifly ahead, her
eyes flaming and her lips shut tightly togeth
er. She did not speak nor turn her head, only
stalked along in silence, disgust written in
every line of her face and form.
Bounding up the steps and into the house
she threw herself, sobbing into her mother's
"O, mother, mother," she cried, "I'm so
wicked. I don't deserve anything. I'm so
wicked," and she poured into her mother's
sympathetic ear the whole story of the valen
tines, her feelings of yesterday, Bobby's ac

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