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Title: Cousin Hatty's Hymns and Twilight Stories Author: Crosby, William, Nichols, H. P. Language: English As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available. Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book. *** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Cousin Hatty's Hymns and Twilight Stories" *** This book is indexed by ISYS Web Indexing system to allow the reader find any word or number within the document. [Illustration: BOOK COVER.] [Illustration: MOTHER BIRDS.] COUSIN HATTY'S HYMNS AND TWILIGHT STORIES. [Illustration] BOSTON: 1851. PREFACE. Most of the simple verses which compose this volume were written for a very dear child, with no thought beyond her gratification. They are published at the request of friends, with the hope that other children may derive the same pleasure from them as the little one for whom they were first intended. _Boston, Dec. 4, 1850._ CONTENTS. 1. THE FIRST HYMN 2. MORNING HYMN 3. EVENING HYMN 4. CROSS LOOKS 5. SELFISHNESS 6. THE CAT 7. STUDY FIRST 8. THE BABY 9. I AM HAPPY WHEN I DO RIGHT 10. THE BEGGAR GIRL 11. THE GIRL WHO WOULD NOT BE WASHED 12. THE SPIDER 13. MORNING HYMN 14. EVENING HYMN 15. THE LAUNCH 16. SUNDAY 17. THE MEDDLESOME CHILD 18. GOD SEES ME ALWAYS 19. THE ARK AND THE DOVE 20. THE BEE 21. SUNDAY 22. THE PLEASANT WORLD 23. SAMUEL 24. THE BIRD'S NEST 25. GOD LOVES US 26. MOSES 27. ANGER 28. WHAT THE BIRDS SAY 29. THE MONKEY 30. THE SHEEP IN HEAVEN 31. TWILIGHT 32. THE WRONG STORY 33. THE BALLAD 34. THE CHILD'S QUESTION 35. SUNDAY NIGHT 36. HAGAR AND ISHMAEL 37. EVENING HYMN 38. THE FIRST VIOLET 39. CHRISTMAS 40. NEW YEAR 41. EVENING HYMN 42. SOAP-BUBBLES 43. SPRING 44. SUMMER 45. AUTUMN 46. WINTER 47. "GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD" 48. WILLIE IN HEAVEN 49. THE ANGELS 50. THE CHILDHOOD OF JESUS 51. THE FISHERS 52. THE RAINBOW 53. SONG FOR MAY MORNING 54. THE CHILD AND THE FLOWER-ELF 55. THE FOUR GIFTS 56. THE TWO LULLABIES THE FIRST HYMN. [Illustration] God made the bright, round sun; He made the pretty flowers; The little birds, the trees, the clouds The rain that falls in showers. He made papa, mamma, And baby brother, too; And mother says He looks from Heaven, And sees each thing I do. Then I must try to be Pleasant, and sweet, and mild; For the good God who made me loves A kind, obedient child. [Illustration] MORNING HYMN. [Illustration: Letter N.] Now again the yellow sun Shines upon my window-pane; Now anothor day's begun, I can laugh and play again. I must try to-day to be Kind in all I say and do; Then will God be pleased with me, And mamma will love me too. For she says that God above Loves to see a little child Sweet and gentle as the dove, Like the pretty lamb so mild. EVENING HYMN. [Illustration: Letter N.] Now the sun hath gone to rest, Stars are coming faint and dim, And the bird within his nest Sweetly sings his evening hymn. Have I tried mamma to mind? Was I gentle in my play? Have I been a true and kind, Pleasant little girl to-day? Then will God take care of me Kindly, through the long dark night; Bright and happy, I shall see Once again the morning light. CROSS LOOKS. [Illustration: Letter W.] Why, what a frightful face is this! And what has happened, sir, amiss? Come, let me wipe these tears away, And see no more cross looks to-day. If Kate did throw your blocks about, She's very sorry, I've no doubt; And here she stands to tell you so, And build another house, I know. No tears and crying here must be, So have a pleasant smile for me. There, that will do,--now run away, And kindly with your sister play. I MUST NOT BE SELFISH. [Illustration] [Illustration: Letter W.] When I play with little children I must very gentle be; I must always do to others As I'd have them do to me. I must like to give and lend them, If they want my prettiest toy; More than my delight and pleasure I must love my playmate's joy. Children who are kind and loving God above is pleased to see; Let me ever this remember, Ever sweet and pleasant be. [Illustration] THE CAT. [Illustration] [Illustration: Letter S.] Stop, naughty pussy! that's not fair! Jump down this minute from the chair! You've eaten my nice slice of bread. And here are only crumbs instead. I for a minute left the room To listen to the "Buy a broom," And now I think it's quite too bad That you my luncheon should have had. [Illustration] Her mother said, "My dear, if you Had done what you were told to do, And put the plate upon the shelf, You might have had the bread yourself. "But if you have no thought nor care, And leave your luncheon on a chair, You must not blame poor pussy-cat; She knows no better, dear, than that. "The one who left her bread about Upon the chair, while she went out,-- The one who hangs her head for shame,-- My little girl's the one to blame!" [Illustration] STUDY FIRST. [Illustration: Letter N.] No, Robbie! you can go away; I am not ready yet to play; For I must learn these words to spell, That I may say my lesson well. How sad our dear mamma would look, To find that I had left my book! And if I disobeyed her so, My play would not be gay, I know. I'll learn my lesson very soon, And then I'll run with you till noon; So, Robbie, you can go away, And presently I'll come and play. THE BABY. [Illustration] We've the dearest baby sister! And so small and sweet is she, That we love to stand beside her, All her cunning ways to see. She can talk in baby language, She can laugh, and she can crow; She's the pet and she's the darling, She's the sweetest one we know. Mother says that she will always Be a sweet and gentle child, If, in all our actions towards her, We are loving, good, and mild. Let us, then, be kind and pleasant Ever to our little pet; Nor to thank the God who gave her, Morn and night, let us forget. [Illustration] I AM HAPPY WHEN I DO RIGHT. [Illustration] [Illustration: Letter H.] How glad it makes me feel at night, When sitting on my mother's knee, To hear her whisper "You've done right, And tried my gentle child to be." But then I feel ashamed and sad If I've been cross and disobeyed, Or if my selfish way I've had When I with other children played. So if at night I'd call to mind A day of undisturbed delight, The only way that I can find Is to be loving and do right. [Illustration] THE LITTLE BEGGAR-GIRL. [Illustration: Signed HOWLANDS.] I've just looked from the window To see the snow come down, And make the streets look nice and white, That lately were so brown. I've seen a little beggar-girl Go by in all the cold; She had no shoes nor stockings on, Her dress was torn and old. How thankful I should be to God, Who gives me clothes and food, A nice warm fire, a pleasant home, And parents kind and good! Mamma, I'll always try to help The hungry and the poor; For those who are not warmed and fed, I pity, I am sure. THE CHILD WHO WOULD NOT BE WASHED [Illustration: Letter D.] "Don't wash me, pray, mamma, today," I once heard little Jennie say, "For oh! so very hard you rub, I never want to see my tub." "O, very well," her mother said; "I'll put you back again to bed; And you must in your night-gown stay, Nor come down stairs at all to-day." And then I heard Miss Jennie cry, And beg mamma to let her try; And say, as she had done before, That she'd so naughty be no more. Her mother turned and left her there; She heard her step upon the stair; But in her chamber, all day long, She staid alone, for doing wrong. She heard her sister jump and run, And longed to join her in her fun; Her brother made a snow-man high; But she upon her bed must lie. She heard the merry sleigh-bells ring, And to the door come clattering; But Jennie could not go to ride In night-clothes by her father's side. And glad was she, as you may guess, The next day to put on her dress; She ran and told her mother then She never would do so again. THE SPIDER. [Illustration] Don't kill the spider, little Fred, But come and stand by me, And watch him spin that slender thread, Which we can hardly see. How patiently, now up, now down, He brings that tiny line! He never stops, but works right on, And weaves his web so fine. You could not make a thread so small, If you should try all day; So never hurt him, dear, at all, But spare him in your play. [Illustration] MORNING HYMN. [Illustration: Letter N.] Now a new day just begun, I'll try to spend it well; That I may have, when eveningcomes, No naughty deeds to tell. So through my life may every day Be better than the past; That God may take me, when I die, To live in heaven at last. EVENING HYMN. [Illustration: Letter T.] The sun has set behind the hill, The bird is sleeping in his nest; And now, when all around is still, I lay me down to welcome rest. May the kind God, who lives above, And watches o'er us day and night, Bless us, and grant us, in His love, Again to see the morning light. THE LAUNCH. [Illustration] [Illustration: Letter C.] Come, sister Ellen, get your hat And come away with me; My boat, all rigged with mast and sail, I want you so to see! Do you upon the landing stand, While here I'll kneel and blow, So that the little "Water-witch" Beneath the arch may go. There! there! she's off! how fast she goes Across the river wide! I'd love to sit in her myself, And o'er the water glide. When I'm a man I'll have a boat, And every sunny day, We'll take a long and pleasant sail, Till daylight fades away. [Illustration: HOPE.] SUNDAY. [Illustration: Letter G.] God made the day of rest, The holy Sabbath day, For us to think and talk of Him, And not for work or play. I'll put away my toys Safely, the night before; And Sundays I'll be very still, Till Monday comes once more. And then mamma will say, That, though I am so small, I yet can please the great, good God, Who takes care of us all. I love these Sabbath days, Which God to us doth give; And may I love them more and more, Each day and year I live! THE MEDDLESOME CHILD. [Illustration: Letter L.] Little Lucy was left in the room once alone, Where the table was set out for tea; She looked all around, and she thought to herself That no one was there who could see. Then she climbed on a chair and took off the top Of the sugar-bowl, shining and bright; And there were the lumps of the sugar she loved, All looking so nice and so white! Then she said to herself, "Mamma never will know, If I take away only just one;" So she took it, and ate it;--it tasted so good, She thought, "But one more, and I've done." But while she was reaching her hand out for more, The chair slipped away from her feet; And poor little Lucy soon wished much that she Had not taken the sugar so sweet: For her head struck the floor, and made such a noise, That every one hastened to see; And all of them knew, by the sugar she held, How naughty Miss Lucy could be! And no one was sorry, although her poor head Ached sadly because of her fall; For little girls never--so every one said-- Should taste or should meddle at all. GOD SEES ME ALWAYS. [Illustration: Letter G.] God sees me always. When I sleep, He kindly watches near; He loves the little child to keep, Who tries to please Him here. When I'm alone He sees me too, Though no one else is by; And every naughty thing I do, He sees it from on high. He sees me, too, when I am rude, And cry, and fret, and tease; He loves to see me when I'm good And try mamma to please. Then, since He sees me day and night, And is so kind to me, I must do always what is right, His gentle child must be. [Illustration] THE ARK AND THE DOVE. [Illustration: Letter A.] A rain once fell upon the earth For many a day and night, And hid the flowers, the grass, the trees, The birds and beasts, from sight. The deep waves covered all the land, And mountain-tops so high; And nothing could be seen around, But water, and the sky. But yet there was one moving thing,-- A still and lonely ark,-- That, many a weary day and night, Sailed o'er that ocean dark. At last, a little dove was forth From that lone vessel sent; But, wearied, to the ark again, When evening came, she bent. Again she went, but soon returned, And in her beak was seen A little twig--an olive-branch-- With leaves of shining green. The waters sank, and then the dove Flew from the ark once more, And came not back, but lived among The tree-tops, as before. Then from the ark they all came forth, With songs of joy and praise; And once again the green earth smiled Beneath the sun's warm rays. THE BEE. [Illustration] Now, Ellen, stop screaming and running away, And come here and listen to me; Is it true, my dear daughter, I want you to say, That you're foolishly scared by a bee? The bee is as frightened as you are, my dear, For he can't tell the way to get out; And as for his sting, that you never need fear, If you do not run crying about. If you were to catch him, why, then, I dare say You'd soon feel his sharp little sting; But if you sit still at your work or your play, Be sure that no harm he will bring. So wipe off these tears and never again Give way to so foolish a fright; For if you indulge it 't will cost you much pain And no one will want you in sight. [Illustration] SUNDAY. [Illustration: Letter T.] 'T is Sunday morning, dear mamma! I do not wish to play; Last night I put my dolls and toys Safe in my box away. I'll come and sit down by your side, While you the story tell Of the good little Joseph, whom His father loved so well. And of the time when waters dark Covered the world around; And all but Noah in his ark, Beneath the waves were drowned. And of the gentle dove, that forth O'er those wide waters flew, And twice, with weary wing, returned, No resting-place in view. And how the infant Moses, too, Floated the Nile along; And how his mother made for him The basket cradle strong. Please tell these Bible-stories then, And take me on your knee, And I'll sit still, my dear mamma, And listen quietly. [Illustration] THE PLEASANT WORLD. [Illustration: Letter I.] I love to see the sun go down Behind the western hill; I love to see the night come on, When everything is still. I love to see the moon and stars Shine brightly in the sky; I love to see the rolling clouds Above my head so high. I love to see the little flowers That grow up from the ground; To hear the wind blow through the trees, And make a rustling sound. I love to see the sheep and lambs So happy in their play; I love to hear the small birds sing Sweetly, at close of day. I love to see them _all_, because They are so bright and fair; And He who made this pleasant world Will listen to my prayer. [Illustration] SAMUEL. [Illustration: I.] In Bible times so long ago, And in a far-off city, too, A mother watched her only child As he in strength and beauty grew. And when his little tottering feet Had scarcely learned to go alone,-- Before his baby voice could speak Her name, with a sweet, joyous tone,-- She took her boy and travelled on, Away from home, for many a mile, That with a good and holy man Her darling son might live a while; That he might learn about the God Who made the earth and sea and sky; And then she left him there and turned Back to her home, with many a sigh. She could not place him on her knee And tell him he was very dear; And so she made a little coat And brought it to him every year. But you, my little girl, can learn, While you are sitting close by me, Of heaven, and that kind God above, Who made in love each thing we see. And you should thank Him every day, That you can here His goodness know; And from your pleasant, happy home, And your dear parents, need not go. THE BIRD'S NEST. [Illustration] What is Harry thinking of, Sitting on that mossy stone? All his brothers are at play; Why is he so still and lone? He is musing earnestly; And the flutterings of the bird And its pleading, feeble chirp Fall upon his ear unheard. Well may little Harry think! From the pear-tree's withered bough He has brought the pretty nest, Placed within his hat-crown now. That is why he sits alone; And he hears a voice within, Louder than the Robin's note, Crying, "Harry, this is sin!" Then put back the nest, my boy, So you will be glad and free, Nor will hasten by in shame, When you pass that withered tree. GOD LOVES US. [Illustration: Letter H.] "How beautiful it is, mamma, That God should love us all; That He should listen to their prayer, When little children call! "What shall I do for him, mamma? For He's so kind to me,-- How shall I show my love to Him Who made bird, flower and tree?" "The only thing which you can do Is this, my darling child, Be always gentle, full of love, In words and actions mild. "Thus you will show your love to God Who is so kind to you; And you will live with Him at last In His bright heaven, too." [Illustration] THE STORY OF MOSES. [Illustration: Letter T.] "Tell me a Sunday story," A dear child said to me; And I bent down and kissed her And placed her on my knee. "Once, long ago, in countries Far, very far away, Where the cold snow-storm never comes, And all is bright and gay, "There lived a king, so cruel, He gave this stern command, That all the little children Must die, throughout the land. "But still there was one mother Who kept her baby dear, And quickly hushed its crying, In silence and in fear; "But when she could no longer Her precious baby hide, She did not like to throw him Upon the rushing tide; "And so a little basket She made, of rushes stout, And plastered it with clay and pitch To keep the water out. "Then in this basket-cradle She put the little child; And quietly he floated down Among the rushes wild. "Just then the king's own daughter Came to the water's edge, And saw the basket floating Among the grass and sedge. "She drew it from the water, And called the babe her own, And kept him till to be a man That little boy had grown. "And when you read the Bible,-- Which you will learn to do,-- You'll see how great and good he was, And how God loved him, too." [Illustration] ANGER. [Illustration: W.] "When a child is cross and angry, Never must her voice be heard; Only to herself most softly May she say this simple word, "Lead us not into temptation;" That will angry thoughts remove, Make her calm and still and gentle, With a spirit full of love. WHAT THE BIRDS SAY. [Illustration] "I hear the birds sing, mother, Yet know not what they say; I've listened to them often Until they flew away. "Say if their words, dear mother, To you are clear and plain, Or if, like me, you've listened At morn and night in vain." "We don't know what they say, dear; We think they sing their hymn At early morning sunrise, Or at the twilight dim. "When softly sings the mother, Within her downy nest, We think she's gently hushing Her little ones to rest. "But this remember, darling, The birds are always kind; A cross or angry songster I never yet could find. "And you may learn a lesson From their sweet notes of love; Like them be always gentle, And please the God above." [Illustration] [Illustration] THE MONKEY. [Illustration: Letter O.] "O Mother! here's the organ-man, And here's the monkey, too! Just see his funny gown of red, And little cap of blue! "O look! he's on the window there! His cap is in his paw; And now he bows and makes a face; What can it all be for? "O, now they've dropped some money in, While, quickly as he can, See! he puts on his cap, and gives The pennies to the man. "Mamma! why don't you look at him! You have not seen at all; Just see him climbing up and down, With paws so brown and small! "He's gone away! O, dear mamma, Why did you not come here? You never saw, in all your life, A thing one half as queer." "I'll tell you why, my little son, I do not like to see That monkey bow and jump about; 'Tis no delight to me. "They've had to treat him cruelly To teach him how to play; They've had to whip and punish him And take his food away. "And that is why I do not love To see him dancing so; And if you thought of it, my boy, You'd feel with me, I know." THE SHEEP IN HEAVEN. [Illustration: Letter C.] "Come to the window, mother! Look out, and you will see How fast these little clouds sail on, Above our old elm tree! "And tell me, dearest mother, Are these the sheep of heaven, That in that land are feeding, From morning until even? "How soft and white and shining! Oh! say, dear mother, there Is everything so gentle, So lovely and so fair?" "We cannot see them, darling, The sheep of heaven, here; And far more beautiful than this Does that bright land appear. "Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, Nor tongue of man can tell The glories of that home above, Where all the good shall dwell." [Illustration] TWILIGHT. [Illustration: Letter T.] The happiest hour of all the day To me, is always last; When both my studies and my play, My walks and work, are past. When round the bright warm fire we come, With hearts so light and free, And all within our happy home Are talking quietly, Then, by my dear, kind father's side I sit, or on his knee, And then I tell him I have tried His gentle girl to be. And then he says the little child Is loved by every one, Who has a temper sweet and mild And smiling as the sun. Let me do always as I should, Nor vex my father dear; And let me be as glad and good As he would have me here. [Illustration] THE WRONG STORY. [Illustration] "My little Edward, how could you Tell me a thing that was not true? And make me feel thus grieved and sad To find I have a child so bad? "And then, to do a deed so mean, And wish by that yourself to screen! Would you have had me blame poor Tray, And send him from the fire away? "O! never, when you've disobeyed, Or by your mischief trouble made, Think that a wicked act is right Because you hide it from my sight. "It will be always seen by One, Who knows each wrong that you have done; And I shall know it too, no doubt, For sin must always find you out. "I cannot let you here to-day With me and little sisters stay; But you must go up stairs alone, Till you a better boy have grown." [Illustration] THE BALLAD. [Illustration: Letter C.] "Come hither, little brothers, And listen now to me, And I will read a story To both, while at my knee." Then Johnnie's flag hung idly, And Charlie hushed his drum; To hear sweet Mary's story The mimic soldiers come. "'Tis of a boy no larger, My little Charles, than you; But he had been in battle, And all its terrors knew. "His father was a captain; He had no child beside; And while he was an infant His mother dear had died. "And so from camp to battle, From fight to camp again, Had lived, this little hero, On many a bloody plain. "One day, when shouts were loudest Upon the reddened field,-- When came the victor's war-cry, 'See! see! they fly! they yield!'-- "Forth then, to seek his father, He went with eager joy; But with a chance ball wounded, Low lay the fearless boy! "The son of a brave chieftain, He made no sigh or groan; His father's hand yet tighter He clasped within his own! "And so, when strife was ended, No more to be begun, In conquest's very moment Thus fell the chieftain's son." Then John took out his feather, And put his flag away; And Charlie's drum was silent Until another day. [Illustration] THE CHILD'S QUESTION. [Illustration: Letter W.] "What are the flowers for, mamma, That spring up fresh and bright, And grow on every hill and plain, Where'er I turn my sight? "How do the flowers grow, mamma? I've pulled the leaves away, And tried to see them blossom out, On many a summer's day." "The flowers were made, my little child, That when our footsteps trod Upon the green and pleasant fields, We then might think of God. "We may not see how they do grow, And bloom in beauty fair; We cannot tell how they can spread Their small leaves to the air: "But yet we know that God's kind hand Creates these little flowers, And makes the warm sun shine on them, And waters them with showers. "And so we love to think that He, Who paints their sweet leaves thus, Who sends the sunshine and the rain, Has thought and care for us." SUNDAY NIGHT. [Illustration: Letter T.] The holy Sabbath day has fled; And has it been well spent? Have I remembered what was said, And why the day was sent? May I be better all the week, For what to-day has taught; May I God's love and favor seek, And do the things I ought! HAGAR AND ISHMAEL. [Illustration: T.] 'Twas morning, and the pleasant light Shone on the hills, the trees, the flowers, And made a far-off country bright, A lovely land, but not like ours. A mother led her little child Forth from his father's door away; And with the flowers he played, and smiled As beautiful and bright as they. But when, at noon, the warm sun beat Upon the sweet boy's forehead fair, Tired and thirsty from the heat, He asked in vain for water there. The bottle, filled with water clear At early day, was empty now; The mother laid her child so dear Beneath an old tree's spreading bough. She turned away, and heard the sound Of water, gushing like the rain; She raised her boy from off the ground, He drank, and played and smiled again. They travelled on for many a day, The mother and her little child; And found a home, far, far away, At last, among the deserts wild. [Illustration] EVENING HYMN. [Illustration] The bird within its nest Has sung its evening hymn, And I must go to quiet rest, As the bright west grows dim. I see the twinkling star, That, when the sun has gone, Is shining out the first afar, To tell us day is done. If on this day I've been A selfish, naughty child, May God forgive the wrong I've done, And make me kind and mild. May he still bless and keep My father, mother dear; And may the eye that cannot sleep Watch o'er our pillows here, And guard us from all ill, Through this long, silent night, And bring us, by His holy will, To see the morning light. THE FIRST VIOLET. [Illustration: Letter S.] Spring has come, dear mother! I've a violet found, Growing in its beauty From the cold, dark ground. You are sad, dear mother, Tears are in your eye; You're not glad to see it; Mother, tell me why? I remember.--Last year, Where our Willie lies, Grew the earliest violet, Blue as were his eyes. Then you told me, mother, That the flowers would fade, And their withered blossoms On the earth be laid. But you said, as springtime Would their buds restore, Willie would in heaven Be forevermore. Weep no more, dear mother! Violets are in bloom; And your darling Willie Lives beyond the tomb. [Illustration] CHRISTMAS. [Illustration: Letter L.] "Little children, when rejoicing In the merry Christmas morn, 'Mid your sports remember ever 'Tis the day that Christ was born. "When on earth, the blessed Saviour Said, 'Let children come to me,' And the little ones he folded In his arms, how tenderly!" "But the Saviour is in heaven, And we cannot see him now; We cannot receive his blessing, In his presence cannot bow." "Listen. In the holy Bible, Jesus Christ tells every child That the way to gain his blessing Is by being good and mild." "Here on earth you may not see him; But when this short life is done, You shall live with him forever Where there is no setting sun." "So remember, Christmas morning, That on earth the Saviour came; And that still he guards and blesses Every child who loves his name." [Illustration] NEW YEAR. [Illustration: Letter I.] If I resolve, with the new year, A better child to be, 'Twill do no good at all, I fear, But rather harm to me, Unless I try, with every day, No angry word to speak; Unless, each morn, to God I pray To keep me mild and meek. Then let me try with all my might, And may God help me too, Always to choose the way that's right, Whatever act I do. EVENING HYMN. [Illustration: Letter G.] God has kept me, dearest mother. Kindly, safely, through the day: Let me thank Him for His goodness, Ere the twilight fades away. For my home and friends I thank Him, For my father, mother dear; For the hills, the trees, the flowers, And the sky so bright and clear. If I have been kind and gentle, If I've spoken what was true, Or if I've been cross and selfish, He has seen and known it, too. Those I love He will watch over, Though they may be far away, For he loves good little children, And will hear the words they say. [Illustration] SOAP-BUBBLES. [Illustration: Letter O.] "O George! how large your bubble is! Its colors, too, how bright! Just like the rainbow that we saw On high, the other night. "Now throw it off, and let it float Like fairies in the air! It's broken, Georgie; never mind, But blow another there." Their mother, just within the door, Smiled at their childish play,-- A smile, but yet a thoughtful one, That seemed these words to say: "My little Georgie, bubbles burst, And are but empty air; I would that you might love the things That last forever fair. "And ever may my darling Kate A trusting spirit bear, And, when one cherished hope has fled, Yet find another there." [Illustration] SPRING. [Illustration] I am coming, I am coming, With my carpet soft and green; I have spread it o'er the common, And a prettier ne'er was seen. Soon I'll spangle it with clover, And the dandelions bright; You shall pick them in your aprons, Yellow, red, and snowy white. I am coming, and the tree-tops, That all winter were so bare, You shall see, with small leaves covered, Wave their branches in the air. I am coming! Little children, Can you tell me who am I? If not, you will soon remember, For I'm just now passing by. [Illustration] SUMMER. [Illustration] [Illustration: Letter T.] Tis Summer, I know by the blue of the sky; By the trees' deeper green, as beneath them I lie; And more than all these, by the lovely wild rose That now in the woodland its pink blossom shows. Now ring the sharp scythes of the mowers all day, And they spread to the air the sweet-scented hay; They pile up the wagon ere daylight is done, And singing come home with the set of the sun. I feel the warm west wind fan gently my cheek As I sit on the grass, far too happy to speak; And then in the twilight I see the faint spark Of the fire-fly, flitting alone in the dark. Oh! long happy days, when 'tis full of delight To roam in the meadows from morning till night! Oh! summer, sweet summer! glide slowly away, For I love in your warmth and your fragrance to stay. [Illustration] AUTUMN. [Illustration] Here's the purple aster, And the golden-rod, And the blue fringed gentian, By the meadow sod. And the scarlet cardinal Grows beside the brook, And the yellow sunflower In some sheltered nook. Maple boughs are covered With their foliage red, And the withered elm leaves On the ground lie dead. And within the orchard, Heavy-laden trees Shower down the apples, With each passing breeze. So by these we know thee, Lovely autumn time, With thy deep blue heavens, And thy snowy rime. And we gladly greet thee, With thy colors gay, Though thou tell'st us summer Hence hath fled away. WINTER. [Illustration] With my breath so keen and chilling, I have stripped the branches bare; And my snow-flakes white are filling, Feather-like, the frosty air. Coming o'er the lofty mountains, There I left a robe of white; I have locked the sparkling fountains, I have chained the river bright. O'er the quiet valley winging, There I left my traces, too; Hark! the merry sleigh-bells ringing, With their music call on you. I have come! The school-boy shouting, Joyfully brings out his sled; He has seen me, nothing doubting, As across the fields he sped. I have come; but shall I find you Better than the former year? If you've cast your faults behind you, I shall gladly greet you here. [Illustration] "GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD." [Illustration: Letter G.] Give us this day our daily bread; Oh! children, when you pray, And morn and night repeat these words, Think what it is you say. You never asked a piece of bread, And had that wish denied; For food to eat, and some to spare, Has always been supplied. But o'er the ocean, many a cheek With want grows thin and pale; And many suffer like the boy Of whom I tell this tale. He lay upon some scattered straw,-- His strength was almost gone,-- And, in a feeble voice, he cried, "Give me three grains of corn!" Three grains from out his jacket torn, His trembling mother drew, 'Twas all she had--she gave them him, Though she was starving too! Be very grateful, children, then, For all that you enjoy; Remembering, as you say those words, The little Irish boy. [Illustration] WILLIE IN HEAVEN: [Illustration: Letter T.] "They tell me in a sunny land Our Willie is at play; And with him is a happy band Of children, good and gay. "They say their shining robes of white Are free from spot or stain; That there, where it is never night, They feel no grief or pain. "But Willie shunned the stranger's face, When he was with us here; And in that new, though lovely place, He will be sad, I fear. "He'll miss me,--though the fields are fair, His bright eyes will grow dim; He has no little sister there; O let me go to him!" "Our Willie is not sad, my child; For in that heavenly home There dwells the blessed Saviour mild, Who bids the children come. "He loves them with a purer love, A holier, than ours; And leads them in the fields above, Where spring undying flowers. "If no ungentle words you speak, No wicked actions do, And if, with every day, you seek To be more kind and true, "Then, by our darling Willie's side, And joined in heart and hand, Forevermore shall you abide, Among the angel band." THE ANGELS. [Illustration: Letter W.] "Where are the angels, mother? Though you have often said They watched at night around me, And safely kept my bed; "Though every night I listen Their voices low to hear, Yet I have never heard them,-- Where are they, mother dear? "And when the silver moonshine Fills all my room with light, And when the stars are shining, So countless and so bright. "I hope to see them coming, With their fair forms, to me; Yet I have never seen them,-- Mother, where can they be? "I saw a cloud, this evening, Red with the setting sun; It was so very lovely, I thought it might be one. "But when it faded slowly, I knew it could not be, For they are always shining; Why come they not to me?" "My child, when through your window Shines down the moonlight clear,-- When all is still and silent, And no kind friend is near,-- "Are you not glad and happy, And full of thoughts of love? Do you not think of heaven. That brighter land above? "These thoughts the angels bring you; And though the gentle tone Of their sweet voices comes not When you are all alone; "Yet they are always leaving, For earth, their homes on high; And though you cannot see them, You feel that they are nigh." THE CHILDHOOD OF JESUS. [Illustration: Letter O.] Of the childhood of our Saviour Tells one simple verse alone; Yet from that his whole behavior When he was a child, is known. He was subject to his mother, So the holy Scriptures say; 'Tis enough, we need no other Record of him day by day. Thus we, his obedience knowing, Know how gentle and how mild,-- How in truth and goodness growing Was our Saviour from a child. Little children, who endeavor Like the blessed One to be, As you try, remember ever How obedient was he. If, like Jesus pure and holy, You your parents' will obey, You will grow more meek and lowly, And more like him, every day. [Illustration] [Illustration] THE FISHERS. [Illustration: Letter S.] Silence! stir not! for a whisper Would affright thy pretty prey; Not a motion, little lisper, Else the fish will glide away. Hush! he's coming! he is swimming Slowly round and round the bait; Steady! though thine eye is brimming Full of mirth that will not wait. And thy brother near thee kneeling Fears to hear thy ringing shout; Gently! near and nearer stealing Comes the brightly spotted trout. There! thy hook has caught him surely; Firmly hold thy slender rod; Pull away! and then securely Place him on the grassy sod. [Illustration] 'Neath the green boughs rustling o'er you, Fish away the livelong day; And with evening's star before you, Wander home at twilight gray. [Illustration] THE RAINBOW. [Illustration: Letter W.] "What is the rainbow, mother dear, With many-colored light? Have the clouds parted just to show The floor of heaven so bright? "Or is it wings of angels pure That touch along the sky? And do they come that we may see How fair is all on high? "Or, mother, on that shining arch Do spirits rise above? And on that bended bow ascend Where all is light and love? "How beautiful must be that road! Why should we call those back, Who travel to the better land On such a sunny track? "Why did you weep when brother died? Did you not know that he On that delightful path must tread, Ere he in heaven could be?" "My dearest child, we cannot know, Or trace the spirit's flight, For sin and sorrow draw their veil Across our mortal sight. "If--as the rainbow takes its hues Of beauty from the sun-- We strive to live like Christ our Lord, The meek and holy One,-- "Then shall we dwell in Heaven's clear day, Which knows nor night nor moon, For, ever, from the Father's throne Beams high and cloudless noon." [Illustration] A SONG FOR MAY MORNING. [Illustration] Awake! awake! the dusky night Is fading from the sky; Awake! and with the early light To pleasant fields we'll hie. Come with me, and I will show Where the fragrant wild-flowers grow; We will weave a garland gay For our smiling Queen of May. The sun peeps up behind the hills, And hark! the morning song Of little birds the fresh air fills, As now we skip along. By the brook-side cold and wet, Blooms the pale, white violet; There's the purple blossom, too, Nodding with its weight of dew. The gentle wind just lifts the head Of many a columbine; And, taken from their rocky bed, They in our wreaths shall twine. Saxifrage, so small and sweet, Grows in plenty at our feet; From the grass we gather up, Golden bright, the buttercup. Now for the trailing evergreen, That in the woodland springs, And we will crown our May-day queen With buds this fair month brings. Merriest of all the year Is the day we welcome here; We will sing and dance away, In our glee, this long May-day. [Illustration] THE CHILD AND THE FLOWER-ELF. [Illustration: Letter I.] "I was walking, dearest mother, This morning, by the brook, And tired at last I rested me Within a shady nook. "There all was still and lonely, And suddenly I heard A little voice,--a sweeter one Than note of any bird. "I looked above, around me, I saw not whence it came; And yet that tone of music Was calling me by name. "The violet beside me Bloomed with its purple cup, And a tiny face, so lovely, Amidst its leaves peeped up. "Again the silver music,-- The voice I loved to hear,-- Upon its sweet breath floated, And bade me not to fear. "'I am the elf,' it whispered, 'Who in the violet dwells, And every blossom hides one Within its fragrant cells. "'If you will list our teaching, And catch our faintest tone, Your heart will be as spotless, As loving as our own.' "And then, as I was gazing, It vanished from my sight; Once more the violet nodded, And sought the sunshine bright." "My darling child, the elfins That live within the flowers Sweet sounds are ever breathing, To glad this world of ours. "Well may we weep and sorrow, If they are silent all; Then are our souls too sinful To heed their spirit call. "The pure in heart alone can hear Those precious words and low; And by their lessons purer yet Throughout their lives shall grow." [Illustration] THE FOUR GIFTS. [Illustration: Letter A.] A new-born babe was sleeping Within its cradle fair, And angel guards were keeping Its peaceful slumbers there. Gone was the age of fairies, And of the elfins wild, Who, hovering o'er the infant's couch, Were wont to bless the child. But in a distant city, Fays that still glad the earth, Four gentle little children, Hailed with delight his birth. Out spake the eldest sister, "O, let us fairies play, And give to our young brother Some precious gift to-day. "Sit down around the fireside, And I my gift will tell." And the little children sat them down The fancy pleased them well. Again thus spake the eldest, "I 'll give him _beauty_ rare; His eyes shall be as diamonds bright, His brow like marble fair. "He shall have golden ringlets, His cheeks shall mock the rose; And he shall be the loveliest Where'er his light form goes." The next replied, "Oh! sister, Not such a gift is mine; For beauty's charms, though lovely, Must perish and decline. "I'll give him _wit_ and _talents_; In manhood he shall stand Among the gifted and the wise, That bless our native land." "I'll give him _sweet good-temper_," Said the third loving child; "He shall make glad our happy home By actions kind and mild." The youngest raised her wondering eyes, And said, in accents low, "I thought the gift I chose would be The first that you 'd bestow. "I'll give our little brother _Obedience_ to-day, And he shall mind, with cheerfulness, All that our parents say." Oh! blessed is the childish heart, In life's first opening dawn, For all its high and holy thoughts From heavenly founts are drawn. May our most valued blessings be Obedience and love! Our hearts, like that sweet sister's, full Of teachings from above! [Illustration] THE TWO LULLABIES. "Once songs as lullabies to thee I sung, To sleep hath sung thee now an angel's tongue." _From the German of Ruckert_. [Illustration: Letter A.] A lovely babe was lying Upon its mother's breast; And she, with soft, low music. Was hushing it to rest. The song was sweet and gentle, And loving in its tone; And in its touching tenderness A mother's love was shown. And still it floated onward, With melody so deep, Till closed the dark-fringed eyelids, The baby was asleep. And still beside his cradle She sang the same low hymn, Till he smiled, as he was sleeping, At angel fancies dim. Years passed.--The helpless infant Was now a happy boy; And often rang his laughter, In notes of heartfelt joy. Upon his mother's bosom I saw the child again; And his little head was drooping In weakness and in pain. Back from his marble forehead The hair streamed, golden bright; But yet his dark eye sparkled With more than mortal light. And suddenly he whispered, "What music sweet I hear! 'Tis not the song you used to sing At night, O mother dear! "But sweeter far, and softer, Than notes you ever sung; It is as if a silver bell Its pleasant chimings rung. "It tells of rest, dear mother, Of slumber calm and deep; And I am worn and weary, And fain 'would sink to sleep. "Darkness is closing round me-- You're fading from my sight-- I hear it still!--dear mother, Kiss me once more--good-night!" He slept; but angel voices Had sung his lullaby; And sweet shall be his waking In our Father's home on high! [Illustration] *** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Cousin Hatty's Hymns and Twilight Stories" *** Doctrine Publishing Corporation provides digitized public domain materials. Public domain books belong to the public and we are merely their custodians. This effort is time consuming and expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. We also ask that you: + Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Doctrine Publishing Corporation's ISYS search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for personal, non-commercial purposes. + Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Doctrine Publishing's system: If you are conducting research on machine translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. 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The company's award-winning software suite offers a broad range of search, navigation and discovery solutions for desktop search, intranet search, SharePoint search and embedded search applications. ISYS has been deployed by thousands of organizations operating in a variety of industries, including government, legal, law enforcement, financial services, healthcare and recruitment.


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Tips for a Successful Meth Addiction Recovery
The Watershed Addiction Treatment Programs
The Watershed of the Palm Beaches is licensed by the State of Florida and "Gold Seal" accredited by The Joint Commission for alcohol and drug treatment. This symbolizes value and illumines the dedication to meeting industry performance standards. We are a world-class health care facility that offers professional addiction treatment. Just two miles from beautiful Palm Beach County beaches, our rehabilitation center is the perfect setting to emerge refreshed and renewed.Read More ›
Methamphetamine addiction can wreak havoc on the lives of both the user and on those who care about the individual. People are adversely affected by this addiction in a number of ways, but, unfortunately, that doesn't make recovery much easier for the addict. Successful meth addiction recovery is a long journey backed by an array of challenges and obstacles that can make continued abstinence seem impossible—but there is help!
The following tips will help you to achieve success in your recovery from meth addiction:
Stay Focused
The first tip that will help you to recover from this addiction is to stay focused on your goal. If you haven't set a realistic goal, consider the following elements of setting SMART, realistic goals for your recovery:
- Be specific about what it is you want in recovery (do you want to be completely sober, do you want to stop thinking about meth, do you want to regain visitation with your family)
- Set measurable goals and be sure to establish a method of measuring your progress (how long, how much, how many, etc)
- Set attainable goals in recovery (don't instantly set a goal to be sober forever, though attainable, this can be very difficult. Instead, set a goal to stay sober for 30 days, then increase that goal as you make achievements)
- Be realistic about your recovery goals (a realistic goal is one that you truly believe that you can accomplish)
- Make sure that goals are tangible (tangible recovery goals are those which you can experience using one of your five senses)
Remain in Treatment
According to NIDA, effective drug addiction treatment takes at least 90 days and much longer in some cases. Remaining in treatment is one of the most important steps you can take toward successful meth addiction recovery. If you're feeling discouraged or as if you simply don't want to be a part of treatment any longer, do what you can to make positive change that will help you to feel better. You may want to seek a friend to provide peer support or to talk with your counselor or therapist about your feelings. Positive outcomes are likely to come from extended periods in treatment—do whatever you can to remain in treatment for at least 90 days!
Seek Support
According to SAMHSA, research has shown that recovery from any addiction, including meth addiction, is facilitated by social support. Various types of social support have been identified including:
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- Information support – support that includes educational training or skill set improvement such as parenting classes or wellness classes.
- Instrumental support – support that includes assistance in helping an individual to achieve a task such as providing transportation to treatment or child care during counseling sessions.
- Affiliation support – support which facilitates connections with others and improved social skills such as AA meetings or recovery groups.
Seeking support in the above mentioned groups and areas can greatly improve your chances or remaining methamphetamine free and in achieving your recovery goals.

subset: commoncrawl


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To the Editor:
When is the McHenry County State's Attorney's Office going to look into the financial dealings of Algonquin Township? Or when are the township's taxpayers going to be interested enough to attend meetings, submit Freedom of Information Act requests and look into overtime, vacation time and payment and severance pay?
If it was my hard-earned dollars at stake here, I would be at the next meeting raising a stink, or stopping by the office to drop off FOIA requests (email is OK, too). But these aren't my dollars. They belong to the taxpayers of Algonquin Township. Who among you is willing to speak out about how your tax dollars have been spent?
Taxes too high? Use your voice not only at the ballot box but at the podium too. Or take pen to paper and write a letter. Staying quiet just means that you think things are copacetic. Are you sure about that?
Dennis Finegan


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报告题目:Space-Time Variability of UTLS Chemical Distribution in the Asian Summer Monsoon Viewed by Limb and Nadir Satellite Sensors
报告人: Laura Pan
邀请人:陈良富 研究员
报告人简介: Laura Pan is a senior scientist and UTLS Group Lead in NCAR ACD from 2014. Laura studies atmospheric dynamics or motions in the atmosphere associated with weather and climate. In particular, she focuses on the upper troposphere and lower stratosphere. The dynamics, chemistry, and clouds of the upper troposphere and lower stratosphere are connected. Laura seeks to understand the chemical behavior of the tropopause and how the tropopause separates the layers above it and below. Her current scientific research interests include Physics and Chemistry of the upper troposphere and lower stratosphere (UTLS), Physical and chemical behavior of the tropopause, UTLS processes related to the Asian Summer Monsoon (ASM), and observation and modeling of the UTLS region using satellite, aircraft and chemistry-climate and chemistry-transport models.


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Police report that a Dubuque man died in a single-vehicle crash Monday night in southwest Wisconsin.
The accident happened around 9:30 p.m. on Highway 61/151 south of Dickeyville close to the Illinois, Wisconsin, and Iowa state border.
The 47-year-old Dubuque man lost control of his SUV when he overcompensated while turning a corner, spinning out of control and rolling over in the median. He was pronounced dead at the scene.
His two passengers, a 44-year-old and 56-year-old, were taken to hospitals in Dubuque. Their conditions are unknown.
Grant County Wisconsin authorities believe that both speeding and drinking contributed to the accident.
If you or someone you love has been injured or killed by a drunk driver, you deserve some measure of justice. Call the Iowa drunk driving accident attorneys of LaMarca Law Group, P.C., at 877-327-2600 to discuss your legal options as soon as possible.


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text:
Wilson's disease
Also found in: Dictionary, Thesaurus, Medical, Wikipedia.
Related to Wilson's disease: Huntington's disease
Wilson's disease[′wil·sənz di'zēz]
A hereditary disease of ceruloplasmin formation transmitted as an autosomal recessive and characterized by decreased serum ceruloplasmin and copper values, and increased excretion of copper in the urine. Also known as hepatolenticular degeneration.


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I want to write about this child, who was the youngest ever executed in America. Well, I don't have time to really write anything, so I'm going to do a cheap cut-and-paste job.
You'll get my input on part II. In the meantime, #knowyourhistory
Thanks for visiting my blog.
(The following taken from Wikipedia)
George Junius Stinney Jr. (October 21, 1929 – June 16, 1944) was, at age 14, the youngest person executed in the United States in the 20th century.[1]
Stinney, of Alcolu, South Carolina, was convicted of murdering two young girls after police said he confessed to the murders. But the question of Stinney's guilt, the validity of his alleged confession and the judicial process leading to his execution has been criticized as "suspicious at best and a miscarriage of justice at worst",[2] and as an example of the many injustices African-Americans suffered in courtrooms in the Southern United States in the first half of the 20th Century.[3]
Following his arrest, Stinney's father was fired from his job and his parents and siblings were given the choice of leaving town or being lynched. The family was forced to flee, leaving the 14-year-old child with no support during his 81-day confinement and trial. His trial, including jury selection, lasted just one day. Stinney's court-appointed attorney was a tax commissioner preparing to run for office. There was no court challenge to the testimony of the three police officers who claimed that Stinney had confessed, although that was the only evidence presented. There were no written records of a confession. Three witnesses were called for the prosecution: the man who discovered the bodies of the two girls and the two doctors who performed the post mortem. No witnesses were called for the defense. The trial before a completely white jury and audience (African-Americans were not allowed entrance) lasted two and a half hours. The jury took ten minutes to deliberate before it returned with a guilty verdict.
The case
Stinney was arrested on suspicion of murdering two white girls, Betty June Binnicker, age 11, and Mary Emma Thames, age 8, in Alcolu, located in Clarendon County, South Carolina, on March 23, 1944.[4] Alcolu was a small, working class, mill town where whites and blacks were separated by railroad tracks. The girls had disappeared while out riding their bicycles looking for flowers. As they passed the Stinney property, they asked young George Stinney and his sister, Katherine, if they knew where to find "maypops", a type of flower. When the girls did not return, search parties were organized, with hundreds of volunteers. The bodies of the girls were found the next morning in a ditch filled with muddy water. Both had suffered severe head wounds.[5]
Stinney had joined the search party and he related to another that he had talked to the girls on the day of their murder.[6] As he and his sister had been the last persons to admit seeing the girls alive, Stinney was arrested a few hours after their bodies were discovered. Stinney was suspected simply because he mentioned he had seen the girls earlier in the day. [7]
He was interrogated by several white officers in a locked room with no witnesses aside from the officers; within an hour, a deputy announced that Stinney had confessed to the crime. According to the confession, Stinney wanted to "have sex with" 11 year old Betty June Binnicker and could not do so until her companion, Mary Emma Thames, age 8, was removed from the scene; thus he decided to kill Mary Emma. When he went to kill Mary Emma, both girls "fought back" and he thus decided to kill Betty June, as well, with a 14 inch railroad spike that was found in the same ditch a distance from the bodies. According to the accounts of deputies, Stinney apparently had been successful in killing both at once, causing major blunt trauma to their heads, shattering the skulls of each into at least 4-5 pieces.[5]
"Because there were no Miranda rights in 1944, Stinney was questioned without a lawyer and his parents were not allowed into the room. No written confession exists, only a few handwritten notes of a deputy who was present during the interrogation. …Reports said that the officers had offered the boy ice cream for confessing to the crimes."[8]
The next day, Stinney was charged with first-degree murder. Jones describes the town's mood as grief, transformed in the span of a few hours into seething anger, with the murders raising racially and politically charged tension. Millworkers threatened to storm the local jail to lynch Stinney, but prior to this, he had been removed to Charleston by law enforcement. Stinney's father was fired from his job at the local lumber mill and the Stinney family left town during the night in fear for their lives.[5]
This was South Carolina in 1944, with a black male defendant, two young white female victims, and an all white, male jury. Stinney never stood a chance.—Zerlina Maxwell, as quoted by The Grio, NBC news
The trial took place on April 24 at the Clarendon County Courthouse. Jury selection began at 10 a.m., ending just after noon, and the trial commenced at 2:30 p.m. The courthouse was packed with a completely white audience as African-Americans were not allowed entrance. Records indicate 1,000 to 1,500 people crammed the courthouse. Stinney's court-appointed lawyer was 30-year-old Charles Plowden.[5] "Plowden had political aspirations, and the trial was a high-wire act for him. His dilemma was how to provide enough defense so that he could not be accused of incompetence, but not be so passionate that he would anger the local whites who may one day vote for him. While Plowden was preparing a run for state House that Spring, he was not the only one for which the trial held political implications. As elected officials, Sheriff Gamble, Judge Phillip Henry Stoll, Gov. Olin Dewitt Talmadge Johnston, Coroner Charles Moses Thigpen and State Sen. John Grier Binkins, who were all involved in the case, were also beholden to white voters."[8]
Plowden did not cross-examine witnesses; his defense was reported to consist solely of the claim that Stinney was too young to be held responsible for the crimes. However the law in South Carolina in 1944 regarded anyone over the age of 14 as an adult. The prosecution merely responded by producing Stinney's birth certificate which showed him to be fourteen and five months old. Closing arguments concluded at 4:30 p.m., the jury retired just before 5 p.m. and deliberated for 10 minutes, returning a guilty verdict with no recommendation for mercy.[5] Stinney was sentenced to death in the electric chair.[4] When asked about appeals, Plowden replied that there would be no appeal, as the Stinney family had no money to pay for a continuation. When asked about the trial, Lorraine Binnicker Bailey, the sister of Betty June Binnicker, one of the murdered children, stated:[5]
Everybody knew that he done it, even before they had the trial they knew that he done it. But, I don't think that they had too much of a trial.—Lorraine Binnicker Bailey, sister of victim Betty June Binnicker, as quoted by Jones, Mark R., South Carolina Killers: Crimes of Passion, pg. 41.
Commenting on the 2011 attempt to file a motion to re-open the case, attorney Steve McKenzie said:
Stinney was a convenient target. But how do you exonerate somebody where there is absolutely no evidence one way or the other? There was only a coerced confession. The confession was never written. It was an oral confession testified to two white officers and told to an all white male jury.—South Carolina attorney Steve McKenzie, as quoted by The Grio, NBC news
Local churches, the N.A.A.C.P., and unions pleaded with Governor Olin D. Johnston to stop the execution and commute the sentence to life imprisonment, citing Stinney's age as a mitigating factor. There was substantial controversy about the pending execution, with one citizen writing to Johnston, stating, "Child execution is only for Hitler." Still, there were supporters of Stinney's execution; another letter to Johnston stated: "Sure glad to hear of your decision regarding the nigger Stinney." Johnston did nothing, thereby allowing the execution to proceed.[5]
The execution of George Stinney was carried out at the South Carolina State Penitentiary in Columbia, on June 16, 1944. At 7:30 p.m., Stinney walked to the execution chamber with a Bible under his arm, which he later used as a booster seat in the electric chair. [5] Standing 5 foot 1 inch (155 cm) tall and weighing just over 90 pounds (40 kg),[4] he was small for his age, which presented difficulties in securing him to the frame holding the electrodes. Nor did the state's adult-sized face-mask fit him; as he was hit with the first 2,400 V surge of electricity, the mask covering his face slipped off, "revealing his wide-open, tearful eyes and saliva coming from his mouth"…After two more jolts of electricity, the boy was dead."[8][9] Stinney was declared dead within four minutes of the initial electrocution. From the time of the murders until Stinney's execution, eighty-one days had passed.[5]
Latest evidence
South Carolina lawyers Steve McKenzie, Shaun Kent and Ray Chandler are supporting George Frierson in an attempt to obtain a posthumous pardon for Stinney. Frierson is a researcher from Alcolu who came across the case in 2005 while doing black historical research. McKenzie in an interview in 2011 said he has no doubt this case was an injustice. He said that the lack of preserved evidence made clearing Stinney's name difficult, but he hoped that the affidavits of three new witnesses, one of which could provide an alibi, would be enough to re-open the case.
If we can get the case re-opened, we can go to the judge and say, 'There wasn't any reason to convict this child. There was no evidence to present to the jury. There was no transcript. This case needs to be re-opened. This is an injustice that needs to be righted.' I'm pretty optimistic that if we can get the witnesses we need to come forward, we will be successful in court. We hopefully have a witness that's going to say — that's non-family, non-relative witness — who is going to be able to tie all this in and say that they were basically an alibi witness. They were there with Mr. Stinney and this did not occur.—Steve McKenzie
George Frierson stated in interviews that "…there has been a person that has been named as being the culprit, who is now deceased. And it was said by the family that there was a deathbed confession." Frierson said that the rumored culprit came from a well-known, prominent white family. A member, or members of that family, had served on the initial coroner's inquest jury which had recommended that Stinney be prosecuted


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John C. Hocking is the author of the Harper's Pen Award winning story, "The Face in the Sea," which appeared in Black Gate #13, published by John O'Neill. Recently I had an opportunity to ask these two gentlemen a few questions about the winning story, writing, and publishing.
Sorcerer's Guild: According to a note accompanying your story, "The Face in the Sea" is the first of three stories about Brand the Viking. Are the Brand stories closely connected by events? Are they part of a larger narrative, like a novel (finished or unfinished)?
John C. Hocking: The Brand stories I've written so far are tied closely together, as Brand and his shipmates reclaim their chieftain's stolen daughter and try to bring her back home. I was originally working on a novel about the characters, but the elements I wanted to use ended up better expressed in short stories.
SG: How did "The Face in the Sea" and Black Gate meet?
John O'Neill: I think it all began with a book published in 2004 called LORDS OF SWORDS, edited by Dan Blackston. Word went around that it was a pretty good collection of heroic fantasy -- with some standout work by such folks as E.E. Knight, Howard Andrew Jones, Joe McCullough, and others -- when it got a hilariously off-base review at Tangent Online. It annoyed a few members of the staff, including Todd McAulty, who commandeered a chunk of the review section in BLACK GATE 8 to do a lengthy rebuttal, and celebrate the work of some of these emerging talents.
One of the stories Todd called out in LORDS OF SWORDS was called "Vali's Wound," by Mr. John C. Hocking. I took the time to read it, and was suitably impressed. It was the tale of a young and inexperienced Viking named Brand, who dared to defy a Valkyrie when she came to claim a fallen comrade.
I met John just a few weeks later at Windycon in 2005, and learned he had a series of these stories. When I asked John if he would ever send me one, he told me one was already sitting in my slush pile at home. I suppose I'd had know that, it I hadn't been busy having a good time at a convention.
SG: Was it love at first sight?
John O'Neill: Yes, actually. Although the story's actually a little more complicated. Literally, in this case.
The first story John submitted to me was called "The Bonestealer's Mirror" -- a really terrific piece in which Brand and his shipmates discover the rather chilling secret of a particularly loathsome demon haunting a lonely isle. I bought it immediately, and Storn Cook delivered a fabulous pair of illustrations to accompany it (the first work he'd ever done done us, incidentally.) I was all set to unleash it on the world.
John then delivered a NEW Brand story: "The Face in the Sea." I jumped at the chance to buy it, and scheduled it for Black Gate 13. And then John informed me this one occurred chronologically *first* in the series, followed by "Vali's Wound," and then "Bonestealer."
So John's appearance in Black Gate had to wait. I postponed "Bonestealer," commissioned art for "Face" -- which Storn delivered again -- and published "The Face in the Sea" in Black Gate 13.
"The Bonestealer's Mirror" has finally appeared in Black Gate 14, with Storn's art -- over four year after I purchased it. It's been a long wait, but I hope it's been worth it. John returns in our very next issue with the start of a brand new series. I think you'll like it.
SG: What do you like best about "The Face in the Sea"?
John O'Neill: "The Face in the Sea" is a textbook example at what John Hocking is best at -- and indeed, what all great heroic fantasy writers are good at. And that is creating, in swift and sure strokes, a group of valiant characters that we quickly come to care about, and a forlorn setting where the cast must stand alone.
And then, he unleashes the monsters.
SG: You've written three stories about Brand the Viking, so I take it you like writing in this setting. What is it about Vikings that attracts your creative energies?
John C. Hocking: I'm certainly not alone in finding the Vikings and their world deeply fascinating. Their barbaric yet oddly civilized culture, their astonishing drive to explore, their ideal of stoic bravery in the face of death, all capture and encourage the imagination. Brand lives in a slightly off-center, alternate version of the Viking world, where history has played out a little differently and magic works, but I like to think I get a little flavor of the sagas in there all the same.
SG: When I first read "The Face in the Sea," I had recently finished reading Poul Anderson's War of the Gods. Have you read this novel? Was your work influenced by Anderson's?
John C. Hocking: I love Anderson's work, especially Hrolf Kraki's Saga, but the Brand stories are more influenced by the Icelandic sagas and Weird Tales magazine of the 1920's and 30's than anything else.
SG: I detected influences of Robert E. Howard in this tale, especially Brand's Conanesque solution to their monstrous problem. Would you say Howard was a big influence on this story?
John C. Hocking: Of course I would! Howard's imagination, passion, and seemingly effortless handling of the elements of plot continue to amaze me.
SG: Speaking of Howard, you published a Conan novel with Tor in 1995. How did that come about?
John C. Hocking: Long story. In short, I wanted to write for Weird Tales in 1932, but since that was impossible I tried to write a tale with its roots in that period. The Conan pastiche novels I was reading back then seemed to me to have an overly distant relationship with REH and Weird Tales, so I tried to bring that back together. It was a strange way to spend my time, as I had no way of knowing if the book I was working on would ever be read by anybody but me. Some have pointed out that Conan and the Emerald Lotus is a less than entirely successful experiment, but 15 years later it's still in print and I can still find reasons to be proud of it.
SG: You wrote that novel without a commission from Tor Books, yet they accepted it for publication? That's a pretty incredible authorial feat.
John C. Hocking: It's true, I wrote Conan & the Emerald Lotus all by myself, with no sanction from TOR, Conan Properties, or anyone else. Ridiculous thing to do. Like an amateur animator spending years in the basement making a cartoon about Mickey Mouse. I had no right to put down a word of it but I was inspired by trying to pay tribute to Conan, REH, Lovecraft, Smith, Bloch, and the whole Weird Tales circle, and kept working away until it was done.
And THEN I wondered what I should do with it.
Figured I might as well see if it could even be considered for publication, but didn't even know how to do that. Sent out a volley of letters to anybody I thought might know and got a response from L. Sprague de Camp. He told me they got unsolicited Conan manuscripts all the time and that they were uniformly poor and summarily rejected, but that he would look at my book if that's what I wanted. I sent it to him and he liked it enough to back it for publication.
SG: What's on your launch pad right now? What's in your future?
John C. Hocking: The third Brand tale, by far the longest and most ambitious, is in Black Gate #14, which just came out. Five years back, when Howard Andrew Jones was editing the Flashing Swords e-zine, I wrote a trio of stories for him about a different set of characters. I've written two more tales of the Archivist and his friend Lucella, and Black Gate has accepted them. I've been stalled on both a novel about the Archivist and the final Brand story, Home to Midgard, but I hope to get both into action before too much longer.
SG: One of your more recent projects was co-editing a book called Detroit Noir. With a title like that, it's not hard to guess, but go ahead and tell us about the book, what's inside the covers, who published it, and where we can find it.
John C. Hocking: I love noir and hardboiled fiction almost as much as I love Sword and Sorcery. My friend Eric Olsen and I noticed that Akashic Books acclaimed Noir series featured anthologies of stories set in specific cities, yet there was no volume for Detroit. We convinced the publisher we were for real and, over the course of a couple years, solicited a fearsomely tall stack of brand new manuscripts from Detroit authors. Then we had to select and arrange our favorites into a book. The tales range from gentle mood pieces to savage hardboiled thrillers, and I was somewhat overwhelmed by the quality of the material we received. There's work from established masters like Joyce Carol Oates and Loren D. Estleman, as well as memorable tales from authors who have gone on to make a name for themselves, like Megan Abbott and Michael Zadoorian. Desiree Cooper's haunting Night Coming was selected for inclusion in Best African American Fiction 2010, and Estleman's Kill the Cat was up for the Shamus Award for best private eye short story of the year. Detroit Noir is still available at many bookstores and all the major on-line booksellers.
SG: Do you consider yourself primarily a short story writer or a novelist?
John C. Hocking: Neither. I write what I can. I'd like to produce more novel length work, but the process is as arduous as the end product is uncertain of publication. Right now, shorter work suits me.
SG: Have you always been a writer, or did you come to it gradually? Or suddenly?
John C. Hocking: I've always been a writer, always told stories. There is little that makes me happier than learning someone who I've never met read and enjoyed something I wrote.
SG: Putting together a magazine is no easy task. Putting together a magazine as enormous as Black Gate must be Herculean. What inspires you to sit down every day and work on it?
John O'Neill: First, let's dispel this myth that it's "Herculean." What I do to create Black Gate is simple: I read fantasy stories, and select the ones I like the most. Nothing to it. Anyone who's read an anthology or magazine and said, "I liked these stories the best" has done what I've done.
Physically creating the magazine is only slightly more work. But with modern desktop publishing programs such as Quark or Microsoft Publisher, even that is a cinch. Quite a bit easier than putting together a web page, for example.
No, the only hard thing about producing a magazine is finding a printer, and a way to distribute and sell it. And you really only have to do that once.
But I'm dodging your question.
Yeah, it takes time -- a lot of time, in which I could be playing with my kids, or watching BATTLESTAR GALACTICA with Alice. What keeps me going? There's a real joy in finding new authors -- folks like James Enge, Joe McCullough, and Peadar O Guilan -- and giving them a stage. Few people remember the editor who first discovered a promising writer.
But editors do. And that's enough.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Interview with John C. Hocking and John O'Neill
Posted by Jeff Crook at 7:51 AM
Labels: Black Gate, John C. Hocking, John O'Neill
4 comments:
"But editors do. And that's enough."ReplyDelete
Great endline John!
Nice interview Jeff; way to weave both Johns throughout and hit on some interesting aspects.
Congrats to all involved!
Thanks Jason!ReplyDelete
Good work, Sonja...err John(s)ReplyDelete
Awesome interview and discussion!ReplyDelete
I'm actually looking for contact with John C. Hocking...any chance you could pass word on to him that I'm looking?
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The Photographer
The Busker
The Drunk – an interesting story and a lesson why it is always a good thing to have a camera with you whenever you can.
I was sitting in the Jetty Bar at Glenelg having a drink and listening to live music with my wife when the drunk (his words) at the next table said, "Excuse me. I am drunk. Can I ask you a question?". I said. "Sure." He asked, "Are you a photographer?" I said, "No. But it is my hobby." He said, "Would you take my photo?" As luck had it, I had the right camera and lens to take a suitable photo in a dark bar. I said, "No problem" and he struck a nice pose. He was most polite. I have yet to see him again so that I can give him a print.


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Ascending the Incline, Manitou Springs, Colorado in VFF KSOs
By Justin on Dec 7, 2009 | In User Stories | Leave a comment »
Steve emailed me about a video he recently put together that shows off a couple pairs of KSO Five Fingers as they trek up the Incline, a stepped and steep hike in Manitou Springs, Colorado. Here's the video:
I asked Steve if he could tell me a bit more about the Incline as well as how he primarily uses his VFFs. Here's what he had to say:
We use our VFF KSOs for almost all of our outdoor activities: running, hiking, climbing, and fine dining (ha-ha).
The Incline is an intense "hike" that takes you straight up the side of a mountain in Colorado with approx. 3,000 railroad ties embedded on the trail as steps. Wearing our KSOs made this grueling trek easier and more interesting as they gave us a better sense of the ground we were travelling over, plus anything that takes off weight is a huge bonus on this trail!
Thanks for sharing, Steve! And fancy footwork on those steep steps!


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This minor will give the student a solid understanding of special event programming and management. It will also provide experiential learning opportunities through event production. Students in various majors including global wine studies, business, the arts, communication and others may find this minor a beneficial supplement.


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Licensed Auctioneer and Real Estate Broker in Ohio and Indiana
Realtor, GRI and Member, CAI (Certified Auctioneer Institute)
AARE (Accredited Auctioneer Real Estate) Education Designation
CES (Certified Estate Specialist) Education Designation
- 1968 – Graduate Eaton High School. Senior Vice President, w/7 Varsity Letters in Golf, Football and Wrestling.
- 1972 – Honorable Discharge from U.S. Marine Corps. Two-Year Duty during Vietnam Conflict, Obtained Rank of Sergeant.
- 1972 – Began Training in Real Estate and Auctioneer Business under my Father, who began in 1948.
- 1972 – Ohio Real Estate Salesman License
- 1973 – Ohio Auctioneers License
- 1975 – Graduate of Ohio State University, B.S. Degree in Business Administration, Real Estate Major.
- 1977 – Ohio Real Estate Brokers License
- 1979 – Indiana Real Estate Brokers License
- 1979 – Indiana Auctioneers License
- 1979 – Earned GRI Designation. Graduate Realtors Institute
- Completed 30 Class Room Hours to Satisfy Ohio Real Estate Continuing Education Law every year since 1980
- 1982 – Earned CAI Designation. (Certified Auctioneers Institute – the highest professional designation for Professional Auctioneers.)
- 1983 – Completed 2 Year Course held at Indiana University, in Conjunction with the National Auctioneers Association, to obtain the Designation AARE (Accredited Auctioneer of Real Estate, given by the Certified Auctioneers Institute. This was a 60 Hour Course.)
- 1986 – Elected to the Board of Directors, Ohio Auctioneers Association. Re-elected for 2nd Term in 1989.
- 1991 – Elected Vice President, Ohio Auctioneers Association
- 1992 – Elected President-Elect, Ohio Auctioneers Association
- 1993 – Elected President, Ohio Auctioneers Association
- 1994-1998 – Ohio Auctioneers Association Advisory Board
- 1996-1998 – Appointed by Ohio Governor Voinovich to a 3 Year Term on the Ohio Auction Commission, a 3 Member Committee, which oversees and helps regulate auctions in Ohio. Re-appointed for a second term through 2001.
- 1999 – Inducted into the prestigious HALL OF FAME of the Ohio Auctioneers' Association, becoming the 19th person enshrined, the youngest member and the second father son honoree to be inducted
- Attend State Auctioneers Conventions yearly (since 1986) spending, yearly, at least 25 hours in seminars, related to the Auction Profession.
- Attend National Auctioneers Association Conventions yearly (since 1987) spending, yearly, at least 20 hours in class room seminars related to the Auction Profession.
- Served on the National Auctioneer Association Committee to Raise One Million Dollars for St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.
- Served 3 year term on the Board of Directors of the National Auctioneer's Association
- Ohio, Indiana and National Auctioneers Association
- Ohio, Dayton Area Board and National Association of Realtors
- Board Member 1981-1983 Preble County Board of Realtors, President in 1983
- Eaton Area Chamber of Commerce
- Ohio State Alumni Association
- Eaton Country Club, President 1980, 13 Times Men's Golf Champion. Middletown, Ohio Browns Run C.C. Men's Golf Champion 1983
- St. Paul United Methodist Church, Eaton, Ohio, Past Chairman Pastor Parish Committee
- Preble & Montgomery County 4-H Junior Fair Sale of Champion Auctioneer
- Member of the Eaton City School District Board of Education during 1993 through 1997, President, 1996 & 1997.
- Various Attorneys, Insurance Agents, Farmers, Antique and Farm Dealers in Preble, Darke, Montgomery, Greene, Butler and Other Areas of Ohio, Indiana, Pennsylvania and Kentucky.
- Court Appraiser for Preble, Darke, Montgomery and Warren County Probate Courts.
- Preble and Montgomery Counties Junior Fair 4-H Livestock Auctioneer
- Internationally Known Hummel Authority, Robert Miller
- Farm Credit Services
- Leon Hendrickson, Owner of Silver Towne, Winchester, IN
- Many charities such as: Ronald McDonald House, Preble County Art Association, Cub Scouts and others
A list of any of the 4,825 Auctions that H. John Kramer has conducted will gladly be furnished, upon request. Thanks, and as I always say: