Produced by Richard Tonsing, hekula03, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) [Illustration: SILAS X. FLOYD _AUTHOR_ JOHN HENRY ADAMS _ARTIST_] FLOYDâS FLOWERS OR DUTY AND BEAUTY FOR COLORED CHILDREN BEING ONE HUNDRED SHORT STORIES GLEANED FROM THE STOREHOUSE OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE AND EXPERIENCE SIMPLE AMUSING ELEVATING BY PROF. SILAS X. FLOYD, A. M., D. D., AUTHOR OF âTHE GOSPEL OF SERVICE AND OTHER SERMONS,â âLIFE OF CHARLES T. WALKER, D. D.,â âNATIONAL PERILS,â ETC. ILLUSTRATED BY JOHN HENRY ADAMS PROFESSOR OF ART AT MORRIS BROWN COLLEGE, ATLANTA COPYRIGHT 1905 BY HERTEL, JENKINS & CO. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 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. âJAMES A. GARFIELD. [Illustration: GEN. SAMUEL C. ARMSTRONG.] PUBLISHERâS NOTE. The publishers of this book have spared neither pains nor expense in trying to make it as nearly perfect as a book of this kind can be. The typographical appearance and the illustrations will speak for themselves. We consider ourselves fortunate in having been able to secure the services of the Rev. Dr. Silas X. Floyd as the author of this volume. Mr. Floydâs life work, aside from his literary training, has made him the ideal man to speak to the colored boys and girls of the South. Soon after graduating from Atlanta University in 1891, Mr. Floyd became Principal of a Public School at Augusta, Ga., and remained in that city for five years consecutively as a teacher. In June, 1896, he was called from the school room into the Sunday-school work, having been appointed by the International Sunday School Convention as one of its Field Workers throughout the South. He continued in this work for three years, retiring from it to become Pastor of Tabernacle Baptist Church, Augusta, Ga., one of the largest churches in the South. After a year and a half in the pastorate, he returned to the Sunday-school work, becoming Sunday-school Missionary for Georgia and Alabama under appointment of the American Baptist Publication Society. Two years ago, he re-entered the school room, and is now once more Principal of a Public School at Augusta. His school is one of the largest in the State of Georgia. Mr. Floydâs work, as the record shows, has been conspicuously for and in behalf of the children, and he is known far and wide as a competent writer and speaker on topics concerning young people. He has contributed to the Sunday School Times, the International Evangel, the New York Independent, The Worldâs Work, Lippincottâs Magazine, and many other journals and periodicals. He is the author of a volume of sermons published by the American Baptist Publication Society and listed in their catalogue as among their standard works, and is also the author of the Life of the leading colored Baptist preacher in America, published by the National Baptist Publishing Board. From the beginning of the Voice of the Negro, Mr. Floyd has had charge of the Wayside Department as Editor, and his work as a humorist and writer of negro dialect is known to many through that medium. In 1894, Atlanta University, his alma mater, conferred upon Mr. Floyd the degree of Master of Arts, and in 1902, Morris Brown College conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. THE PICTURES AND WHO MADE THEM A distinctive feature of this volume is the inclusion of more than half a hundred of original drawings by a young artist. Every boy and every girl delights in pictures. There is something in pictures, even though the subjects be foreign to us, which readily takes hold of our innermost feelings and becomes companionable to the extent that we find ourselves loving that _something_ whatever it is:âa man, or an humble dog, or an old homestead, or what not. We seldom think that some great mind has been hard at work to produce that picture and that it takes years and years of application and deep study to prepare even a genius in art. While you are enjoying the pleasures to be derived from the ârough sketchesâ in this book it is hoped that at the same time you will catch the inspiration of the artist who made them. The negro race has produced very few artists of note, for very few of them have made a success in the profession. Of that few, John Henry Adams is second only to Tanner. Coming up with little in his favor other than a determination to âwinâ and the prayerfulness of loving parents, John Adams kept himself in school until he was thoroughly prepared to enter upon lifeâs sea as a thinker for and a master of himself. Acquiring his art education at The Drexel Institute, Philadelphia, Adams returned to Atlanta and found a place to utilize his training at the Morris Brown College, where he has been eminently successful as a teacher, and where he is loved and honored by all. The lapse of twenty-six years is a very short time to begin to measure a manâs success, but Mr. Adams has already succeeded. The demand for his work is large and plenteous. If there is such a thing as having more work than one can do, it applies pointedly to him. Besides the many fine and costly paintings which Mr. Adams makes and sells, his ârough sketchesâ are quite popular and âgo like hot cakes.â And, with all of this he is a regular contributor to one daily paper, two weekly papers and a monthly magazine. This is but a glimpse of the man. His work as trustee of city charities, his visitations to mission houses and his liberal pocket-book show the more tender side of the artist. When a football game is in progress thereâs another side of the manâthe enthusiast. But all the way through Mr. Adams is ever the amiable gentleman, the vigorous thinker and worker, the friend of children and a constant source of gladness to the poor of Atlanta. PUBLISHERS. PREFACE. Truly the boys and girls of to-day ought to be thankful that they are alive. There never was such a golden age for childhood and youth as the present. To say nothing of the rich opportunities for mental and spiritual development, what a multitude of things have been provided for the innocent pleasure, the wholesome recreation of the young people of to-day; inventions that remind one of the magic of the âArabian Nightsâ; tools of sport so perfect that one cannot imagine how they could be bettered; fascinating games, all unknown in the days gone by; books and papers upon which science, art and literary skill have lavished modern resourcesâall these and many other wonderful things have fallen to the lot of the favored boys and girls of to-day. And now enterprising publishers of our grand country are going to put the boys and girls of Americaâand especially the colored boys and girls of Americaâunder obligation to them, because they have decided to add to the list of good books for children and youths already on the market. I use the word âgoodâ advisedly; for from the day that I was engaged to write this book I have had in mind constantly the thought of making it such a book as would tell for good. It is an old saying that âevil communications corrupt good manners,â but evil reading does more than this: for evil reading corrupts good morals. I have endeavored to put into this book of stories for children only such things as might be freely admitted into the best homes of the land, and I have written with the hope that many young minds may be elevated by means of these stories and many hearts filled with high and holy aspirations. Our nation has a right to expect that our boys and girls shall turn out to be good men and good women, and this book is meant to help in this process. SILAS X. FLOYD. CONTENTS PAGE I. A SPELLING LESSON 19 II. THE TRUTH ABOUT LUCK 22 III. AN EVENING AT HOME 26 IV. THE MAKING OF A MAN 29 V. FALSE PRIDE 33 VI. THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE 37 VII. THE LOUD GIRL 46 VIII. THE ROWDY BOY 51 IX. HONESTY 53 X. UNCLE NED AND THE INSURANCE SOLICITOR 56 XI. THE STRENUOUS LIFE 61 XII. A HUMBUG 64 XIII. A CANDIDATE FOR BAPTISM 66 XIV. GOING WITH THE CROWD 72 XV. MARY AND HER DOLLS 75 XVI. JAKY TOLBERTâS PLAYMATES 79 XVII. A VALENTINE PARTY 83 XVIII. âNO MONEY DOWNâ 86 XIX. TOMMYâS BABY BROTHER 90 XX. KEEPING SCHOOL 93 XXI. THE SCHOOL OF THE STREET 96 XXII. THE FOX HUNT 100 XXIII. A BOLD VENTURE 105 XXIV. A HERO IN BLACK 108 XXV. THE ROAD TO SUCCESS 111 XXVI. SAMUEL C. ARMSTRONG 114 XXVII. HOW TO BE HANDSOME 117 XXVIII. PATIENCE 119 XXIX. THE BITER BIT 122 XXX. THE ALPHABET OF SUCCESS 124 XXXI. EASTER MONDAY IN WASHINGTON 125 XXXII. KEEPING ONEâS ENGAGEMENTS 129 XXXIII. A MIDNIGHT MISHAP 131 XXXIV. FREDERICK DOUGLASS 133 XXXV. OUR DUMB ANIMALS 136 XXXVI. A PLUCKY BOY 138 XXXVII. A HEART-TO-HEART TALK 141 XXXVIII. A GHOST STORY 144 XXXIX. GOOD CHEER 149 XL. LIFE A BATTLE 152 XLI. RULED BY PRIMITIVE METHODS 155 XLII. HUNTING AN EASY PLACE 159 XLIII. BURT BANKSTONâS BEQUEST 162 XLIV. THE BIG BLACK BURGLAR 166 XLV. PIN-MONEY MADE WITH THE NEEDLE 169 XLVI. SELF-HELP 173 XLVII. HENRY WARD BEECHERâS TESTIMONY 177 XLVIII. ROUNDING UP A CHICKEN THIEF 180 XLIX. SHIELDS GREEN, THE MARTYR 184 L. AIMING AT SOMETHING 186 LI. THE BLACK SHEEP OF THE REYNOLDS FAMILY 188 LII. THE HOLY BIBLE 196 LIII. ANDREW CARNEGIEâS ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN 198 LIV. DIRECTIONS FOR LITTLE GENTLEMEN 200 LV. THE LETTER OF THE LAW 202 LVI. THE BEST BOOKS FOR CHILDREN 204 LVII. THE RIGHT TO PLAY 207 LVIII. A CHRISTMAS PRESENT 209 LIX. DRINKING AND SMOKING 211 LX. THE NICKEL THAT BURNED IN FRANKâS POCKET 214 LXI. MONUMENT TO A BLACK MAN 217 LXII. THE BAD BOYâWHO HE IS 219 LXIII. THE BAD BOYâHOW TO HELP HIM 221 LXIV. THOMAS GREENE BETHUNE (âBLIND TOMâ) 226 LXV. NOT FIT TO KNOW 229 LXVI. THE RIGHT WAY 231 LXVII. KEEPING FRIENDSHIP IN REPAIR 234 LXVIII. LITTLE ANNIEâS CHRISTMAS 236 LXIX. THE VELOCIPEDE RACE 239 LXX. FAULT-FINDING 241 LXXI. THE PURITANSâ SABBATH 244 LXXII. THE DEVIL ON AN EXCURSION 247 LXXIII. RANDOM REMARKS 250 LXXIV. BENJAMIN BANNEKER, THE NEGRO ASTRONOMER 254 LXXV. âA LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEMâ 258 LXXVI. DIRECTIONS FOR LITTLE LADIES 264 LXXVII. THREE WORDS TO YOUNG PEOPLE 266 LXXVIII. âA LAMP UNTO MY FEETâ 272 LXXIX. THE THREE BRIGADES 275 LXXX. âHOME, SWEET HOMEâ 277 LXXXI. EDMUND ASA WARE 280 LXXXII. AN ANTE-BELLUM NEGRO PREACHER 284 LXXXIII. PURITY OF CHARACTER 287 LXXXIV. EACH ONE OF US OF IMPORTANCE 289 LXXXV. THE POETRY OF LIFE 290 LXXXVI. ON BEING IN EARNEST 292 LXXXVII. YOUNG PEOPLE AND LIFE INSURANCE 294 LXXXVIII. THE LITTLE SAILOR CAT 297 LXXXIX. ADVICE TO LITTLE CHRISTIANS 299 XC. A WORD TO PARENTS 301 XCI. A HELPFUL MESSAGE 302 XCII. THE UNSEEN CHARMER 304 XCIII. OUR COUNTRY 307 XCIV. THE âDONâT-CAREâ GIRL 309 XCV. NEGRO HEROES 312 XCVI. FREDERICK DOUGLASS TO YOUNG PEOPLE 315 XCVII. TOO HIGH A DAM 318 XCVIII. A GOOD FELLOW 320 XCIX. THE FUTURE OF THE NEGRO 321 C. THE TRAINING OF CHILDREN 323 [Illustration] LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE FRONTISPIECE. A SPELLING CLASS 20 THATâS A VERY PRETTY WAY TO SPELL âLOVEâ 21 âHOW MANY PAPERS HAVE YOU SOLD TO-DAY, TOMMY?â 23 AN EVENING AT HOME 27 BOBBY AND HIS âMANâ 30 âHERE IS THE CARPET, YOUNG MAN; I HOPE I HAVE NOT KEPT YOU WAITING.â 34 GRACE BEFORE GOING TO SCHOOL 38 GRACEâS GRADUATION 42 BLAB-MOUTHED AND NOISY 47 MODEST AND QUIET 49 HE STUFFS BOTH HANDS IN HIS TROUSERS POCKETS 52 âHOW MUCH FOR THE MELON?â 54 âDATâS JESâ WHAT MY âLIGION DOES,â SAID THE OLD MAN 57 âI DONâT BREAK EASYâ 62 âO, GET OUT OF THE WAY, CANâT YOU?â 65 âMOTHER, IâM SO HAPPY. TEACHER FORGAVE MEâ 74 MARY AND HER DOLLS 76 âIâM GOING OVER TO JAKYâS, MAMMAâ 80 OLD MRS. GRAY 84 âPAPA I AINâT GOT NO LITTLE BABY BROTHER TO PLAY WITHâ 91 TOOTSIE 94 LITTLE JOE 97 UNCLE HAMBRIGHT 101 âYOU ALL WAIT UNTIL I COME BACK AND THEN WEâLL PLAY AT FOX-HUNTINGâ 103 âLEND ME FIVE DOLLARSâ 106 A HERO IN BLACK 109 THE ROAD TO SUCCESS 112 HOW TO BE HANDSOME 118 PATIENCE 120 A BITER BIT 123 KEEPING ONEâS ENGAGEMENTS 130 A MIDNIGHT MISHAP 132 OUR DUMB ANIMALS 137 âTHE BOY MARCHED STRAIGHT UP TO THE COUNTERâ 140 A HEART-TO-HEART TALK 142 âHUH! HUH! THERE DONâT SEEM TO BE BUT TWO OF US HERE TO-NIGHTâ 145 âCHARGED WITH KISSING A GIRL ON THE STREETâ 157 âI HAVE JUST FINISHED MY COURSE IN THE HIGH SCHOOLâ 161 THE GAMBLER 163 THE GAMBLER IN OLD AGE 165 THE BIG BLACK BURGLAR 168 PIN-MONEY MADE WITH THE NEEDLE 172 WASHING DOLLIEâS CLOTHES 175 âSON, ITâS A MIGHTY LUCKY THING FOR YOU AND NANNIE THAT I DIDNâT HAVE MY GUNâ 182 AIMING AT SOMETHING 187 âHE CARRIED WITH HIM SOME WILD FLOWERS AND GREEN LEAVESâ 190 âWELL, JOHN, I SUPPOSE SISTER IS DEADâ 194 DIRECTIONS FOR LITTLE GENTLEMEN 201 âMAMMA TOLD ME NOT TO ASK FOR ANY MORE CREAMâ 203 THE BEST BOOKS FOR CHILDREN 205 âMAMMA, I HEAR OLD SANTAâS BELLS, AND OF COURSE THIS IS THE PRESENT HE BROUGHTâ 210 DRINK AND TOBACCO 212 âA QUARTER, MAâAMâ 215 MONUMENT TO A BLACK MAN 217 âPLAY FANTASTICâ ON THE FOURTH OF JULY 220 THE BAD BOYâHOW TO HELP HIM 222 FRANCES 229 âI GOT IN THE HALL LAST NIGHT FOR NOTHINGâ 232 THE TWO PATHS 235 âSHE PUT OUT HER THIN LITTLE HAND AND FELT ITâ 237 THE VELOCIPEDE RACE 240 FAULT-FINDING 242 âGOODNIS GRACIOUS! I SEE DAT OLD CYCLOOM COMINâ BACK AGâIN. HE LOOK BLACKAH AND WUSSAH DAN HE DONE BEFO. RUN, ISAAC, RUN!â 248 âI WISH I COULD HAVE MY WAY WITH THOSE BOYS FOR ABOUT TWO MINUTESâ 251 DIRECTIONS FOR LITTLE GIRLS 265 âA LAMP UNTO MY FEETâ 273 MEMBERS OF THE RAINY-WEATHER BRIGADE 276 HOME, SWEET HOME 278 âSAINT PAUL WAS A MUCH BETTER MAN DAN I IS, ANâ DEY WHUPPED HIM MOSâ EVâYWHAR HE WENTâ 285 EACH ONE OF US OF IMPORTANCE 289 THE POETRY OF LIFE 290 BEING IN EARNEST 293 TAKING OUT A POLICY 295 THE LITTLE SAILOR CAT 298 ADVICE TO LITTLE CHRISTIANS 299 A WORD TO PARENTS 301 âISâERâERâMR. HOPEGOOD IN?â 305 THE âDONâT-CAREâ GIRL 310 NEGRO HEROES 313 FREDERICK DOUGLASS 316 [Illustration] FLOYDâS FLOWERS I. A SPELLING LESSON. The boys and girls of Public School No. 10 were glad to have a new girl, whose name was Bertha Dent, enter their spelling class. The little girlâs mother told the teacher that the child could probably keep up with the First Grade in spelling, because she could spell such words as âdogâ and âhogâ and âcatâ and âratâ and âbat.â It was not a great while before the teacher called the spelling class. She asked Bertha, the new girl, to stand with the class. âYou may spell âdog,â Mary,â said the teacher to one of the girls, âand tell us what kind of noise little dogs make.â âD-o-g, dog,â said Mary, âand our little dog says âbow-wow-wow!ââ âThat was very well done,â said the teacher. âNow, Annie, you may spell âcat,â and tell us what kind of noise little kittens make.â âC-a-t, cat,â replied Annie, âand the little kitties sometimes say âmew-mew,â and when the little doggies come âround they bristle up and hiss at the doggies.â âThatâs very well,â responded the teacher. âSadie, you may spell âbird,â and tell us what the little birds do.â âB-i-r-d, bird,â said Sadie. âWe have a pretty mocking bird that sings for us all the time; most birds sing, but mama says there are some birds which are good to keep bugs and worms off the vegetables and flowers.â [Illustration: A SPELLING CLASS.] âThat is correct,â the teacher made answer. âNow, Bertha Dent, you may spell âloveâ for us, and tell us what love does.â âOh,â said the new pupil, âI know very well how to spell âlove.ââ And then Bertha ran to the teacher, threw her arms around the teacherâs neck, and gave her a sweet little kiss. âThat is the way mama told me to spell âlove,ââ said Bertha quietly, while the teacher and all the members of the spelling class smiled. [Illustration: THATâS A VERY PRETTY WAY TO SPELL âLOVE.â] âThat is a very pretty way to spell âlove,ââ said the teacher. âBut donât you know any other way to spell âloveâ?â âWhy, yes,â answered Bertha looking around. âI spell âloveâ this way, too.â Then she brushed a fleck of dust from the teacherâs sleeve, picked up some papers that were scattered around on the platform and arranged them on the desk. She, also, pulled a tiny bit of thread off the teacherâs skirt. âI spell âloveââ said Bertha, âby working for mama and papa and little brother, and trying to make everybody happy.â The teacher drew the little girl close to her side, threw one arm around the childâs neck and said,ââ âThat is the very best way to spell âloveâ; but canât you spell âloveâ the way the book spells it?â âOh, yes,â said Bertha. âL-o-v-e, love.â The teacher hugged Bertha, called her a dear little girl, and then dismissed the class. II. THE TRUTH ABOUT LUCK. [Illustration: âHOW MANY PAPERS HAVE YOU SOLD TO-DAY, TOMMY?â] This is a world of order and system. There is nothing haphazard about it. The sun rises and sets according to a regular and unchanging law. The tides come in and the tides go out not by accident or chance, but in accordance with well-defined laws. Winter and Summer, sunshine and rain, follow each other in well-ordered succession. What is true in the natural world is also true in the moral and business worlds. A boy reaps that which he sows and gains the prizes for which he is willing to pay the price in labor and self-denial. A divine law controls success and defeat in this life and no strategem or trick can take the place of hard work. Some years ago, I happened to find myself near the terminal of the great East River Bridge in New York City. Two little boys were standing near one of the large iron posts crying their afternoon papers. I tarried near them because I was waiting for a particular car. One little fellow said to the other,ââ âHow many papers have you sold to-day, Tommie?â âNearly one hundred anâ fifty,â was Tommieâs quick reply. âHonor bright?â âYes; honor bright.â âWhoopee! but ainât you in big luck, Tommie?â âLuck!â exclaimed Tommie, wiping the perspiration from his brow. âThere ainât no luck about it; Iâve just been everlastingly at it since four oâclock this morningâthatâs all!â And that is the _all_ of real success. Those who achieve success are âeverlastingly atâ what they are trying to do. Tommie was right in declining to have his hard and honest work cheapened by calling the result of it luck. âYou are the luckiest chap I ever saw,â I once heard a little boy about sixteen years say to another boy of about the same age. âWhy do you say that?â asked the other. âBecause you have had your salary raised twice in the same year.â âWell,â was the reply, âyou may call it luck; but I donât. I have always done my work the very best I knew how. I have never once in the whole year been a single minute late in getting to the office, nor have I ever left a single minute before it was time for me to leave. When I have worked over-time, I have not made any fuss about it. My boss said when he raised my salary last week that he had taken these things into account. So, I donât see where the luck comes in.â âAll the same,â said the first boy, âsome bosses wouldnât have raised your salary.â âThen I would have the satisfaction of knowing that I had done my duty.â Boys, I tell you thatâs right. Nine out of ten employers know that it is to their advantage to show appreciation of faithful work and they show it. When this appreciation comes luck has had nothing to do with it. The thing that passes for luck is in nearly all cases the just reward of honest endeavor. Do not, therefore, start out in life with the expectation that some âlucky turnâ will bring you sudden honor or wealth or position without any effort on your part. Substitute that fine old word â_work_â for that deceitful word â_luck_,â and base your hopes of future success and usefulness upon the honorable labor that it is a God-given privilege for every well and strong and right-minded boy to give his heart and hands to performing. III. AN EVENING AT HOME. Boys and girls between the ages of eleven and seventeen ought to spend their evenings at home, as much as possible. In these busy, bustling twentieth century days, there are many familiesâso much the worse for themâthat scarcely know what it is to spend an evening at home together. Not only the young people but the older people are âon the go.â The evenings are crowded with calls and invitations, which come from far and near. It is nothing to go five or even ten miles to an evening concert or social gathering, the trolley is so near, so cheap and so universal. But I tell you, boys and girls, no matter what the pleasure or amusement affordedâno matter what the instruction or culture receivedâthere are no social or similar opportunities good enough to displace the home circle. The sooner young people realize this the happier they will be. [Illustration: AN EVENING AT HOME.] Boys and girls ought to plan for some evenings at home. Let other things have a share, but do not give up all the time to other things. Once a week the young people ought to arrange for an evening at home. Decline everything else for that evening, the same as you would for any other engagement. Gather the family together. Make a special place for grandma and grandpa. Sing merry songs; play innocent and amusing games; take time to tell the home folks about some of the things that you do and that you have seen in the world; get acquainted with the home folks; be delighted in their delight; by special appointment, spend one or two cheerful hours with the folks at home each week. The young folks themselves should take the lead in this matter. A home is not merely a place with four walls where people meet to eat and drink and sleep securely beneath a roof. Nay, boys and girls, a house is reared to be a _home_âthe center where a family may gather into one; to be a serene retreat where the tenderest affections may find rest; where love may have a dwelling place, and the _amenities_ of life gain ample scope; where parents and children may press one another heart to heart; where sorrows and joys may be freely shared in sacred confidence; in a word, where the great work of training human beings for the duties of the present life, and the perfection of another, may be begun and carried on. There is one special reason for making much of the evenings at home that young people are not likely to think of. _Inevitably_ the _family_ circle will be broken up very soon. Perhaps not by death, but most certainly by change. When Fred goes to college that is the beginning of new ties and new associations, and the home privileges can never be quite so complete to him again. The years of the complete unity of the home are very few indeed. While these years are passing, young people especially should make the most of them. My dear boys and girls, get the benefit of these years; get their joys; store up memories of home life, for they will be in future years the most beautiful pictures of the heart. However some may sneer at it, the memory of home and mother is a great power for righteousness. It has saved many a person to God and native land and race. âBe it ever so humbleâ Thereâs no place like home.â IV. THE MAKING OF A MAN.[1] 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,â âMama, who made the world?â âGod,â replied Mrs. Stamps, sweetly. âWho made the sea?â continued Bobby. Mrs. Stamps answered, âGod.â âWell,â said Bobby, âdid God make everything?â âYes, my son; the Lord made everything.â âAnd did he make everybody?â âYes; the Lord made everybody.â Bobby was silent for a moment. Presently he looked anxiously at his father, and then, turning to his mother, he asked,â âMama, did God make papa, too?â âYes; God made papa also.â After a lengthy pause Bobby asked,â [Illustration: BOBBY AND HIS âMAN.â] âMama, do you think that I could make a man, if I was to try real hard?â âYou had better run out to play now, Bobby,â said Mrs. Stamps, somewhat non-plused by her sonâs 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 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. âWife,â said Mr. Stamps, âI believe those little Satans are trying to make a man.â Toward sunset Bobby ran into the house and exclaimed with delight,â âMama, weâve got our man almost finished. We didnât 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.â âItâs too late to bother now, Bobby,â said Mrs. Stamps. âWait until to-morrow morning; then I will give you a marble and let you finish your man.â 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 woodsâlooking for his man. But his man was nowhere to be found. Two or three weeks later an African Methodist Episcopal Conference assembled in Bobbyâs town. 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. Bobbyâs 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 secretaryâs table to have his name enrolledâBobby went with him. He went into the vestibule to get a drink of waterâand Bobby followed him there. But all the while the man was still in doubt as to the cause of the little boyâs apparent affection. By this time, thoroughly exasperated, Bobbyâs mother decided to go home. She approached the pew in a very ladylike manner and said,â âBobby, dear, come; we must be going home now.â âAll right, Mama,â said Bobby in dead earnest, âbut you will please let me take my man home with meâwonât you? I just found him to-day, and you know Iâve been looking for him for over two weeks!â 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 boyâs perversity. Finding that his mother hesitated to reply, Bobby turned to the man and said,â âCome on: weâre going home now. Why did you leave before I finished you?â V. FALSE PRIDE. Once upon a time the head clerk in a carpet store requested one of his junior clerks to go to a patronâs home to measure a room, and suggested that he take along a five-yard sample. The junior clerk objected to âcartingâ such a big bundle, as he said, âall over town,â and asked that one of the boys be sent with it. The proprietor of the establishment, who happened to overhear the remark, privately told the head clerk to inform the proud young fellow that a boy would be sent on after him with the roll. Shortly after the young man reached the house, the proprietor of the establishment covered him with confusion by appearing at the house in person with the roll of carpet under his arm. Handing the bundle to the bewildered young man, the proprietor remarked: âHere is the carpet, young man. I hope I have not kept you waiting for it. If you have any other orders, Iâll take them now.â * * * * * [Illustration: âHERE IS THE CARPET, YOUNG MAN. I HOPE I HAVE NOT KEPT YOU WAITING.â] A young woman of my acquaintance refused to carry home a yeast cake, though it was needed at once for the family baking and she was bound directly homeward. She said that she wasnât a delivery wagon, and so the yeast cake had to be sent to her home. A great many foolish young people are so absorbingly regardful of their trim appearance on the street that they will never under any circumstances carry a basket or bundle, however much inconvenience they may cause others by refusing to do so. * * * * * Now, it is not proper pride or self-respect which prompts people to act as the young folks acted whom I have just referred to. It is silliness which prompts them to act so. Any honest work is honorable that is honorably done, and you will notice that young people of good social position and strength of character are above such pettiness. Only inferior people act that way. Superior people do not act so, because they are well aware that they cannot be compromised by doing straightforwardly, without fuss or apology, whatever needs to be done. Yet, I admit, that it seems to be human nature that whatever is distasteful or supposedly menial should be done by somebody else. When young people, or old people for that matter, are tempted to be foolish in such things they should remember the lesson of humility that Christ taught his disciples, when in that warm Oriental country, where only sandals are worn, He performed the necessary service of washing the disciplesâ feet. For us to be above our businessâfor us to think ourselves too good or too dainty to soil our hands with honest toilâfor us to feel that it is a lowering of our dignity to carry a bundle through the street, is to prove by our conduct that we are not up to the level of our business, that we are possessed of a great amount of false pride, and, in a higher sense, it shows that we have a foolish and wicked distaste of true service. There is nothing low, nothing degrading, nothing disgraceful, in honest labor, in honest work of any kind, whether it be to boil an egg properly, to sweep a floor well, to carry a bundle or package through the streets, or bring a pail of water. In fact, if somebody were to say that âchoresâ done or undone are the making or the unmaking of boys and girls, it would be a homely way of putting an important truth. Bringing up coal or bringing in wood, weeding the garden bed, running errands, washing dishes, sewing seams, dusting furniture, doing any odd jobs where there is need, cheerfully, faithfullyâthese lead to the highway of greater opportunities and are the usual avenues to the only manhood and womanhood that is worth having. My young friends, the castle of your noblest dream is built out of what lies nearest at hand. It is the uncommonly good use of common things, the everyday opportunities, that makes honored lives, and helps us, and helps us to help others, along the sun-road. âHe that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much.â âPride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.â VI. THANKSGIVING AT PINEY GROVE. The people of the Piney Grove settlement, both white and black, had been free for nearly a generation. The whites had been freed from the curse of being slave-holders, and the blacks had been freed from the curse of being held in bondage. But never in the history of this little town, in the very heart of the so-called âBlack Beltâ of Georgia, had the people known anything about the proper observance of Thanksgiving Day until 189â. And in that year the revolution was brought about by a young colored woman named Grace Wilkins. Grace Wilkins was the only daughter of Solomon and Amanda Wilkins. Solomon and his wife were farmersâplain, simple, ordinary country folk. Amanda was literally her husbandâs helpmeet. She went along with him every morning to the field, and, in season, chopped as much wood, picked as much cotton, hoed as much corn, pulled as much fodder, and plowed as much as her husband did. Up to her fourteenth year Grace had been reared on a farm, and had learned to do all the things that any farmerâs child has to doâsuch as milking cows, feeding hogs and chickens, hoeing cotton and corn, picking cotton, pulling fodder and the like. In her fourteenth year, acting upon the advice of an uneducated colored preacher, her parents sent Grace away from home to attend one of the great normal and industrial institutes for the training of the black boys and girls of the South. [Illustration: GRACE BEFORE GOING TO SCHOOL.] At first her mother and father were filled with forebodings. It was the first time that they had ever allowed their daughter to be away from them, and they missed her so much and longed for her so constantly that they thought that they had made a mistake in sending her off to âboardinâ school.â Ignorant and superstitious neighbors, though they knew as little about such matters as did Solomon and Amanda, were loud in saying that âSolâ and âMandyâ would live to regret the step they had taken in sending Grace away from home. The only rays of sunshine that came in to brighten these periods of mental unrest and gloom on the part of Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins were found in the letters which they received regularly from their daughter. Grace invariably informed her parents, whenever she wrote, that she was âwell anâ doinâ well.â Thus reassured from time to time, Solomon and Amanda managed somehow to undergo the terrible strain of having their daughter absent from them for eight months. But meantime they were firmly of the opinion that, once they got their hands on her again, they would never allow Grace to return to school. With glad and thankful hearts Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins joyously embraced their daughter when she came home at the close of her first year in school. With keen and genuine interest, they listened to her wonderful accounts of the great school and of the great man at the head of it. Grace dressed differently and talked differently; and her mother said, speaking one day in confidence to her husband shortly after Graceâs return, âDat galâs sho got a new walk on her!â Grace Wilkins brought back a toothbrush with her from school. That was something which she had never had before. She used that toothbrush every morning and night. That was something that she had never done before. She was now careful to keep her hair well combed every day. That was something that she had been accustomed to do on Sundays only or on special occasions. She washed her face two or three times a day now, as her mother and father noticed. Before she went to school she had been in the habit of giving her face, as the old people say, âa lick and a promiseâ early each morning. Besides, Grace kept the house cleaner than she had kept it before. She brought home with her a brand-new Bible which she read regularly at home and always carried to church and Sunday school. She also had a song book called âJubilee Songs and Plantation Melodies,â and it gladdened the hearts of the good âold folks at homeâ to hear their daughter sing from a book some of the very songs that they had sung all their lifetime and which were so dear to them. All these things and others made a deep and abiding impression upon Solomon and his wife. And finding that withal their daughter was just as loving and kind as she had been before, and that she was just as industrious and faithful as formerly, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins were not long in deciding that their daughter should go back to that school another year, and that they would work hard and stint themselves in order that they might keep her there until she had finished the normal course. So back to school Grace Wilkins wentâthat year, and the next year, and the next. It was the proudest day in Solomonâs and Amandaâs lives when they sat in the magnificent chapel of the school and heard their daughter read her graduation essay on âThe Gospel of Service.â Glad tears welled up in their eyes when they heard the principal call their daughterâs name, and then saw Grace step up to receive her certificate of graduation. Coming back to Piney Grove to live, âMiss Gracieââeverybody called her that after graduationâestablished a little school which she called âThe Piney Grove Academy.â It was the first public school for colored children ever opened within the corporate limits of the little village. Before that the schools were district schools or county schools, which were taught about in different places for only three or four months in the year, mainly during the summer. Miss Gracie began her school the first day of October. By special arrangement she used the first three months for the public term allowed by the state, and supplemented that with a five-months term, for which the pupils were required to pay fifty cents each per month. The plan worked well, the parents joining in heartily in the movement, and the Piney Grove Academy soon became the model school for the surrounding counties. [Illustration: GRACEâS GRADUATION.] Among other things Miss Gracie had learned at school what was the import of our national Thanksgiving Day. At the opening of the second year of the Piney Grove Academy she decided that she would inaugurate an annual Thanksgiving service. Accordingly on the opening day of the second year Miss Gracie informed the pupils of her plan, and told them that she would begin the very next day to prepare a suitable program for the exercises. Afterwards Miss Gracie secured the cooperation of the village pastorâthe same man who had been instrumental in having her parents send her away to school. Through him she was permitted to talk to the people at the church two or three times about the proposed celebration. She was careful to tell them that the Thanksgiving festival was meant specially to be a home festival in addition to being a time for the people to come together in their accustomed places of worship to thank God for the blessings of the year. She urged them, therefore, as far as they were able without going to unnecessary expense, to have family dinners and bring together at one time and in one place as many members of the family as possible. She explained to them how this might be done successfully and economically, and with pleasure and profit to all concerned. She also urged them to be planning beforehand so that nothing might prevent their attending church Thanksgiving Day morning. She was going to hold the exercises in the church, because her little school was not large enough to furnish an assembly hall for the people who would be likely to be present. On Thanksgiving Day nearly everybody in town went to the exercises. Many white people attended, including the county school commissioner and the school trustees. It was the first Thanksgiving service that any of them had ever witnessed. The program was made up, for the most part, of choice selections from negro authors, composers, orators, and so forth. A selection from Frederick Douglass on âPatriotismâ was declaimed; one from Booker T. Washingtonâs Atlanta Exposition speech was also delivered. Paul Laurence Dunbarâs poem entitled âSigns of the Timesâ (a Thanksgiving poem) was read by one of the pupils, and also âThe Party,â another of Dunbarâs pieces, was rendered. âThe Negro National Hymn,â words by James W. Johnson and music by his brother, Rosamond Johnson, was sung by a chorus of fifty voices. At the opening of the service the presidentâs Thanksgiving proclamation was read and appropriate remarks were made by Miss Wilkins. The closing remarks were made by the Rev. John Jones, the village pastor. The remarks of Mr. Jones were in the congratulatory mood. He was naturally proud of Miss Gracieâs achievements, because he had had something to do with putting her on the road to an education. He spoke of the teacher as the leaven that was leavening the whole lump, and the applause which followed the statement showed plainly the high esteem in which the teacher was held by all the people. Everyone enjoyed the service. None of the villagers had ever seen anything like it before. After singing âAmericaâ all of them went away happy, many of them, in obedience to Miss Gracieâs previous counsel, going home to eat for the first time, well knowing what they were doing, a Thanksgiving dinner. At the home of Miss Wilkins there was an excellent spread of âpossum, potatoes, rice, chicken, pickles, macaroni, bread, a precious Thanksgiving turkey, and the inevitable mincemeat pie. Besides Miss Gracie, there sat at the table that day her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Solomon Wilkins, John and Joseph Wilkins, brothers of Solomon who had come from a distance, Mary Andrews, a sister of Mrs. Wilkins, who also came from a distance, Grandma Wilkins, Grandma and Grandpa Andrews, the Rev. John Jones, his wife, his daughter, and his only son, Jasper Jones. Jasper had gone to school at Tââ one year after Gracie went, and, of course, was one year later in finishing the course there. On this Thanksgiving Day, nevertheless, he had been out of school long enough to have successfully established himself in the business of poultry raising and dairying. Just before the dinner party was dismissed the Rev. Mr. Jones arose and said: âThere is another little ceremony youâall is invited to witness befoâ you go out to see the baseball game. I am authorized by these credentials which I holâ in my hands to unite in the holy bonds of matrimony Miss Grace Wilkins and Mr. Jasper Jones. If there is no objection, these two persons will please stanâ up, anâ Iâll tie the knot.â Of course there were no objections. The knot was tied. And when the villagers learned of the occurrence not long afterwards they had additional reason for believing that they were right when they voted that Piney Grove had never seen the like of such a Thanksgiving Day, and that Miss Gracie Wilkins was one of the best women in all the world. VII. THE LOUD GIRL. I do not know of a more sorrowful spectacle than that of a girl who is loud in her dress, loud in her manners, and loud in her speech. It is a great mistake for a girl to suppose that this loudness will be mistaken by her friends and acquaintances for smartness. The desire to be regarded as bright and witty has led many a girl into the folly of being loud in her manners. She often cherishes the illusion that the attention such manners attract is combined with admiration, when the truth is that those who witness her strange conduct are simply wondering how it is possible for her to throw to the winds that charm of all girlhoodâmodesty. One afternoon not long ago I saw a group of girls of the loud type. They came into the street car in which I was sitting. They all wore boysâ hats. One wore a vivid red jacket with brass buttons, and another had on a brass belt. A third one had on a most conspicuous plaid skirt. This third one had a box of bonbons, and when the three were seated she opened the box and offered it to her companions, saying as she did so, in a voice loud enough and shrill enough to be heard in every part of the car: [Illustration: BLAB-MOUTHED AND NOISY.] âItâs my treat; have some, chums!â Upon this invitation one of the girls dived down into the box like a hungry bear, and held up a piece of the candy in triumph and then dashed it into her mouth with a great guffaw. âO, Mame!â said one of the girls, âif you ainât just horrid to go and take the very piece I wanted!â âMameâ laughed and, taking the candy from her mouth, offered it to the other girl, saying as she did so: âWell, here it is, Lulu!â âLuluâ struck the candy from âMameâsâ hand, and it flew across the aisle into the lap of a lady sitting opposite the girls. This set all three of the girls to giggling and tittering, and they seemed in danger of convulsions when the owner of the box of candy let it fall and a part of the candy rolled out on the floor. The conductor came forward and picked up the box and candy and handed them to the owner. She giggled out her thanks, and âLuluâ said: âWhy didnât you give him a gumdrop for his trouble?â This seemed to impress the other girls as a most brilliant witticism, and they fell to tittering violently over it. Presently a gentleman came in and stumbled slightly over the feet of one of the girls thrust out into the aisle. [Illustration: MODEST AND QUIET.] âI beg your pardon,â said the gentleman, as he lifted his hat, whereupon the three girls grinned and giggled and giggled and grinned immoderately, and one of them said: âRoxy, you had better ride out on the platform, where there is more room for your feet!â âRoxyâ then struck âLuluâ for making this speech. âLuluâ pretended to be much offended and flung herself over to the other side of the car, where she made a grimace at the other girls. The conduct of these girls during the half hour that they were on the car was such as caused every father and mother who saw them to regard them with pity. The loud girl, my dear readers, is always an object of pity. She should be a sorry object for her own contemplation. An old writer has said: âYou little know what you have done when you have first broken the bounds of modesty; you have set open the door of your fancy to the devil, so that he can represent the same sinful pleasure to you anew.â Now, the loud girl may be entirely innocent of any actual wrong-doing, but she is regarded with dislike, distrust, and even disdain, by the better class of people. She acquires a reputation for rudeness and coarseness, and the people of refinement will not associate with her.
{'title': "Floyd's Flowers; Or, Duty and Beauty for Colored Children by Silas Xavier Floyd", 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}