it was approaching the people didn't run out of their homes and throw
stones at it. They ran for the storm cellars. When you see a bit of
anger coming toward you from brother, sister, husband, wife or friend,
don't throw a dictionary of aggravating words at it; get out of the
way and it will quiet down like the troubled waters of Galilee when
"Peace be still" fell upon them.

When we realize how sensitive character is to the touch of influences,
and how uncertain the character of the influence that may touch us,
how very careful we should be as parents as to what shall touch us,
how we shall touch others, who may be fed by our fulness, starved by
our emptiness, uplifted by our righteousness or tainted by our sins.

Sometimes a boy is sent to school with the idea that the influence of
the teacher will mold the character of the boy, when the magnetic
touch by which the faculties of the boy are sprung doesn't come from
the teacher, but from some boy on the playground and perhaps not the
best boy. Some boys are as potent on the playground as a major-general
on a battle-field. Some persons are like loadstones, they draw, others
are like loads of stone, they have to be drawn.

I have known down South in the days of slavery, coal black queens of
the domestic circle. The cows would come to the cupping as if it were
a spiritual devotion. Maiden mistresses would tell them their love
stories, when they wouldn't tell their own mothers. I am a southern
man, born and reared mid slavery, and I pay this tribute to the black
"mammies" of the South before the war. Down there in that hale, hearty
colored motherhood was laid the foundation of future health and
strength for many a white baby, when otherwise its mother would have
had to see it die. Frail, delicate mothers, who because of slavery had