Part 8

I hold a token in my hand, A very tiny thing; And yet within its golden band A thousand memories cling.

Aye! thrice ten thousand memories cling Of signal victories won, Enshrined within this little ring, Reward of duty done.

I ever shall this token prize, And wear it with true grace-- The tie that binds the kindred ties Of friendship race to race.

And when I soar full through the skies, Yet ever will I cling Within the gates of Paradise This sacred little ring!

WHAT'S THE USE?

Oh! What is living but moving about, Buoyed up with hope and crushed down by doubt? What is the draught of breath we harp on as life? Naught but a sip of peace, a cup full of strife-- What's the use?

What is the place we call our home, "sweet home"? Naught but a span of space where one may roam: Night's pitchy corner; a hard crust of bread; Cot for your feeble limbs, pillow your head-- What's the use?

Now, what is loving but acting a fool? And what is quitting?--Producing a rule: Break short the flight of Dan Cupid's swift dart, Aimed at the core of an innocent heart! What's the use?

Say, what is marrying but getting in trouble? Trifling 'way joy while your sorrow is double? What, then, is your state my friend, after you've wed? Naught but a vial of wrath poured upon your head! What's the use?

Ah! what is batching but living a man; Sporting and sleeping--just running his plan? Come when he's ready, and go when he please-- Brain's full of joy, his heart is at ease-- See, that's the use!

O GOD, WILT THOU HELP ME IN SCHOOL?

On Saturday, March 1, 1902, I left Alcorn and went home in order to earn money enough to defray my expenses for the year 1902-03. I began work as soon as I reached home and labored on father's farm until the last week in June, 1902. I had seen by that time that there was nothing to be realized from that source but disheartening failure.

I then acted as agent for the "Zion Record," published by Rev. R. A. Adams, 39 St. Catherine Street, Natchez, Miss., until August 20, 1902. Knowing that there was a dormitory to be built for girls at Alcorn, I went there, hoping to get work and to be there when school opened. On arriving, I failed to get employment. I had no money. The Boarding Hall was run by boys who stayed over summer. Finding I was unemployed, they refused to let me take meals with them. There I was--friendless and penniless--without a bite of bread and nowhere to lay my head. To drive the wolf of starvation away and to keep from being devoured, I made arrangements with President Lanier to cut wood for something to eat, until school opened Sept. 2, 1902.

When school opened, the Faculty met the first day and distributed the positions to the eligibles. On going down to the Hall to take my first meal, to my surprise I found I had been awarded the position of waiter. To hold a position, or even remain on the Campus, one must matriculate within three days after school starts, if there when it opens, or after he arrives, if not. I then wrote home for the matriculation fee ($13), as I had labored there all summer. As that letter was sealed my destiny was sealed in it. It was one that hauled my anchor of hope; yes, one to bring glad tidings of great joy and crowning success, or the gloom of disastrous failure. Thus, having my hope sealed, I wrote across it "In Haste!"

The night of its return was a dark, rainy one. As all sat discussing different events that had transpired since the new session had begun, suddenly a whistle was heard. How our hearts throbbed with gladness as we exclaimed, "There, that's the mail!" Dear reader, you cannot imagine how overjoyed I was. I knew that bag contained a letter for me; so anxious was I to receive it I did not trust anyone, but rushed to the office, and ere long my name was called.

I opened it then and there, with an eager look for a green piece of paper styled a "Money Order." I looked, but found it not. All hope vanished; joy faded; and gloom hovered over me--a feeling I never before had, nor since, and I hope never again to have, electrified my body. It was then raining at full headway: the lightnings flashed; the thunders pealed out peal after peal, each succeeding one louder than the first. By this time all had gone to bed but me. I thought thought after thought, prayed prayer after prayer, sent up cry after cry, shed tear after tear. I went to bed, but could not sleep. I then thought of this subject: "O God, Wilt Thou Help Me in School?" After writing it, my feelings were changed, the gloom was dispelled, and 'Smiling Hope' returned with joyous tidings of happiness and a blissful future.

O, God to Thee, who knowest all things, To Thee each being his praises brings, In heaven, or earth, or sea, or sky-- To-night to Thee I raise my cry.

To-night as Thou doth know the why, The why I make each tearful sigh-- Hast Thou not crowned and blest my way? Why'st Thou forsaken me to-day?

To-night while in my deepest grief, I calmly wait Thy sweet relief; Thou knowest I have done my best, Oh, give my pondering soul some rest.

To-night, O God, grant all to know, For man to reap he first must sow; To know to have both bread and wine He must reap all at harvest time.

To-night, O God, to Thee I plead, Thou must protect me, guide and lead Through this which is my darkest night To a day when Thou shalt give me light.

To-night my soul does bleed with pain, As murky clouds drip down the rain! O God, heal me of this heart ache, For thy dear Son Christ Jesus' sake.

To-night me compass grief and fears, To-night while drip heart-broken tears; There seems to be no one to save My weeping soul from chilly grave.

To-night as I, Thy servant, pray To Thee, to turn my darkness day, And change my many blinding fears To brighter hope for future years.

O restless soul, thou canst not sleep, For, ship-like, thou art tossed the deep; Aye, tossed by surge of mighty wave, With none to share and none to save.

O God, in Thee I now believe, Since life in Thee I do receive; I pray Thee now with trembling fear To my sad soul draw near, draw near.

O God, Thou knowest this night I dread, As 'twere to number me with the dead-- I plead to Thee as by a rule, O God, wilt Thou help me in school?

To-night, O God, the darkest gloom Hangs o'er me like a cloud to doom; I cry while sitting on this stool-- O God, wilt Thou help me in school?