Hasten the day when the rural as well as the city dweller, no matter where he may be, whether in the Southern cotton fields or on the Western plains, in the mountains, or by the sea, shall have a school which is not only open to his children and his grand-children by day, but one which is open to his father, his mother, his wife, his hired man and himself at night. Hasten the day when there shall be no men and women in this country of ours who have eyes to see and yet see not the splendid truths which have been written in books, and who have hands to write but write not the thoughts which, if recorded, might stamp with genius someone whom in its urgent need the world is seeking to-day. But why do you ask me should this tale be told To men grown old, or who are growing old? It is too late! Ah, nothing is too late Till the tired heart has ceased to palpitate. Cato learned Greek at eighty. Sophocles Wrote his grand Œdipus, and Simonides Bore off the prize of verse from his compeers When each had numbered more than fourscore years. ... Goethe at Weimar, toiling to the last, Completed Faust when eighty years were past. These were exceptions, but they show How far the gulf stream of our youth may flow Into the arctic regions of our lives When little else than life itself survives. What then! Shall we sit idly down and say, “The night has come; it is no longer day?” The night has not yet come; we are not quite Cut off from labor by the failing light. Something remains for us to do or dare, Even the oldest tree may some fruit bear. Not Œdipus Coloneus, or Greek ode, Or tales of pilgrims that one morning rode Out of the gateway of the Tabard Inn, But other something could we but begin, For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress. And as the evening twilight fades away, The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. * * * * * Transcriber’s Notes: The one footnote has been moved to the end of its chapter. Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are mentioned. Variations in spelling, punctuation, and hyphenation were retained as they appear in the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have been corrected. p. 137: 1910 in the original publication, which cannot be correct based on the context (in 1910, when) p. 193: Poem is an extract from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “Morituri Salutamus.” End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Moonlight Schools for the Emancipation of Adult Illiterates, by Cora Wilson Stewart