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WHAT WE THINK OF WHAT WE SEE
There are some people who are never satisfied.
The news conies to us that up in “Old Kaintnck" a
dairyman lias been arrested by some of his custom
ers who found minnows in the milk he sold to
them. We are constrained to wonder what they ex
pected. It is manifestly unreasonable to look for
full grown trout in milk.
We detest inaccuracies. For that reason we call
attention to a report made by New York hospital
experts in which they claim that most suicides in
that town are “caused by love or whiskey."’ This
must be a misprint. They intended to say “love of
whiskey. ” At least it works out in that manner
down this way.
It is a blessed privilege accorded the great in this
country—that of giving advice, but they should
appreciate their position and not tell us to do im
possible tilings. Julian Hawthorne says, ‘‘Do some
thing different every day. Get out of bed with a
different leg every morning. ‘' That sounds good
until you begin to put it into practice. Even a cen
tipede could not keep that up more than about three
months. How can anything with only two legs
follow the advice long enough to get any results?
n «
A letter front a soldier’s widow to the Washing
ton Post makes complaint of the section of the
pension laws . which provides for the lapse of a.
widow’s pension when she remarries. She says it
simply isn’t light; that it is curtailing the sweet
ami blessed liberty of an American citizen when
she is forced to restrain her affections and cut out
all the beautiful ideals of second matrimonial hap
piness in order to continue drawing her pension.
There is no doubt this good woman is entirely cor
rect, and the matter should be taken up by the prop
er Department. It may be that an arrangement can
be arrived at whereby the widow would have to for
feit only a certain per cent, say ten, of her pension
when she marries. The widows would be willing to
knock off a little, perhaps.
The Carnegie hero medals arc doing a great work.
In some isolated instances they may be ill in
stowed. but we are happy to chronicle an instance
in which the medal was pinned on the proper man.
Maybe they all deserve them who have received
them; but the ultimate good must have been at
tained when the wearer of the medal knows how to
be on the spot to make himself a hero again. We
refer to William Wolf, of Camden, a wearer of a
Carnegie medal, who the other day seized a mad
dog that ran into a. saloon at the corner of Locust
and Chestnut streets, in Camden. He held the dog
until a policeman arrived and killed him (the dog).
The faculty of being in the right place—right on
the spot where heroism is to be achieved-—means
much.
In discussing the Jamestown lair, “Life says
that the best thing about it is its being located in
\ irginia. The promise is made tnat there will be
on exhibition real, live Virginians who may be com
pared with Pittsburgers, who will be shown in
cages. It is said that “it was from Virginia that
the Anierican people derived most of the liberties
and all the manners that they possess. In that
State American hospitality was invented, and from
it emanated our liist principles of deportment.
We agree with these views, and endorse the state
ment of our obligations io \ irginia. bin the great
est thing that even happened in Virginia was Cap
tain John Smith, lit 1 was a. great man. lie was
remarkable as a soldier, a traveler, an explorer,
and a raconteur. He had the finest set of whis-
kers in the Colony, and when it cam? to the facul
ty of being right on the spot where trouble was
going to break loose, he was the champion mi-the
spotter of all recorded Ameiican history. It may
be said that even these claims to our vmiorati m are
not the preeminent ones. He was the \ LEY I IRS I
SM ITH in this country. And now look at ’em!
The Golden Age for May 16, 1907.
Sy A. E. RAMS A UR, Managing Editor.
In this day of many religious beliefs and of di
verse forms of theology, it is interesting to observe
that even the children are beginning to classify
their faiths and to speak with conviction as to just
what they believe. It is said that on one occasion,
the census-taker rang the bell at the door of the
home of the late Senator Rockwell Hoar. Mr.
Hoar’s daughter Marjorie, aged eleven, answered
the bell. She answered the questions pat to her by
the caller, and when the one regarding religious
belief was reached. Miss Marjorie said: ‘‘Papa, le
is a Unitarian, Mamma is an Episcopalian; Alice,
my sister, is only three and is too young to decide,
and 1. well. I am wavering!” That impresses ns
as being a good woid to cover some beliefs; “wav
ering” about fits. It is nearly as good, as “as at
present advised.”
The Scotch aie a canny people. Mr. Carnegie
is an illustration of their business acumen; but
added to strong executive and creative faculties
they have a wit of no small merit. ’Their chief
characteristic, peihaps, is that of going direct to
the point without loss of time. There is no lost
motion in their mental processes. Perhaps no bet
ter illustration can be found than that of the reply
made by a Scotchman to a visitor to the town of
Bowdoin, where the Scot lived. The visitor had
been strolling around the town quite a while and
had seen no children. There were phnfy of grown
ups. but no children played in the streets or yards.
This struck him as unusual, so he inquired of an
old man whom he met: “How often are children
born in this town?” “Only once,” was the reply.
Come to think of it, the answer was probably ac
curate.
Air. Ray Stannard Baker is the author of the
latest series of articles dealing with the race ques
tion in the South, and apparently purporting to tell
the truth, the whole truth and nothing else of im
portance about the conditions as they exist, taking
the city of Atlanta as the unit of his observations.
We have waited until enough of his articles ap
peared to afford us some idea of just what he
thought of it all, and while we are Milling to ad
mit that we may not be able to comprehend, we are
forced to the conclusion that Mr. Baker has fallen
into the same error that has turned awry the cui
rents of many other discussions of the conditions
here. As dcvelope 1 to date, the articles convey
the impression that Mr. Baker, much to his regret,
is forced to say that the Southern petpie do not
know as much by a great deal, of the conditions as
do Northern space writers who come down here ami
take a look around for a few days. He- advances
(he idea that while the whites know’ all about the
idle and criminal negroes living around them, they
have not noticed the industrious, well-to-do col
ored citizens who are rearing and educating fami
lies and engaging in the honorable pursuits of trade;
law-abiding and in all ways worthy of the respect
of their white neighbors. Viewed from one stand
point, the proposition is nothing but amusing to
Southern readers. We understand how far the
author has misunderstood, or rather in how much
lie has failed to comprehend the real status of af
fairs,’and we can pass on about our affairs, but the
deplorable part of it is the effect it will ha\e upon
Northern sentiment. We of the South have a grave
problem to face; we have struggled with it through
a terrible war, ami have since been combining <i.e
sliuggle in many' ways; working earnestly and con
scientiously with justice and rigid, as our aim. to
deal fairly with the colored race Bui we have
been misunderst >od bv those who do not know the
facts. We have never known a Northern man or
woman who had lived long enough in the South to
understand the conditions as thov exist who had
a word of censure for the treatment accorded to the
negro race. When the commission of certain ‘‘rimes
has occurred in their own States they have resorted
to the same methods as are adopted here. We do
not intend to enter into a discussion of lynching’
we simply wish to express the regret that Mr. Baker,
along will; all others who have written for North
ern magazines, has failed to grasp the situation.
And this is hurtful, as it adds to the literature of
the i'ncl“ Tom’s Cabin class, and will keep alive
in certain minds the pernicious and unjust teach
ings of that book. No author can equip himself
in a short excursion through the South, to say the
last word upon our problem. It is of a piece with
the story told of the lady who havl to “do"’ London
in a day and a half ami then hurry to Switzerland
for a day, as she was pressed for time in which to
secure the material for her book on the city and
country in question.
*
Most of the traditions of our youih are being
rudely and ruthlessly snatched and wrenched away
from us. We once occupied a cordial attitude to
ward science and scientists, but they are presuming
upon it and are going too far. Prof. Raymond L.
1 fit mars, curator of reptiles in (he New York Zoo
(whatever “curator" may be), has written a book
telling what he knows about snakes, crocodiles, liz
ards, turtles, and such-like varmints. The book is
interesting, but it contains absolute denials of many
things that every boy absolutely knows to be true.
'Hie book is certain, written as it is, to inflame pas
sion and provoke hostilities. As an example, Prof.
Ditmars says that there is no truth in the old story’
of the chameleon changing his colors to match his
surroundings; that he can no more do it than a
leopard can change his spots. He says that there
is no such thing as a “joint-snake,” that ran re
unite his scattered joints after he has been killed;
that hoop snakes do not take their tails in their
mouths and. roll down hill, slaving as they roll.
Now’ this wanton attack upon what; every boy knows
to be true from tradition, from history and almost
from personal obsei vation, is horrible. Every boy
has had an uncle who had killed several joint-snakes
am’, standing afar off, seen the dismembered joints
seek each one its mate ami stand forth a complete
and attractive snake again. Friends of his have
told of seeing the hoop snake when angered, firmly
grasp his caudal extremity in his mouth ami roll
swiftly athwart the scenery, mayhap striking a
tree with the horn on his head, ami so potent was
the venom of the reptile, that ere sunset there re
niained of the tree only’ a withered stump. The Pro
fessor savs there is no such thing as jack o lan
terns. and that it is mil inly necessary to carry
a needle-pointed knife ami a buckeye to keep th 'in off
at night. But the most terrible assault made by
him upon the sacred traditions of our sires is con
tained in the statement that whiskey is not good
for snake bites. After quoting this, it is unneces
sary to go farther. We simply leave him to reap
the reward of his own lolly.
It was erroneously supposed once upon a time,
years ago. that the English language was spoken
in America in its purity. Traveleis over the I nited
States learned 'hat this was not the case. In
some localities, like New England, a dialect known
as “Bostonese” is used, ami the natives seem to
understand one another perfectly. In New \ ork
th“ tongue most commonly used is American, platen
with a Dutch-Irish amalgam with Bowery filagree
work. In the South the native cast o| speech is
sicklied o’er with a delightful blend of Kentucky
gentleman accent and antebellum-negro colloquial
isms. A solution lias been reached, however, a
common ground lor us all has been arranged. Ihe
answer is Esperanto —the new ’ world language.
As a sample, here are the opening lines of Poe’s
“ Raven”:
“Unufoje je noktmezo, dum premate per la pezo
|)e mondzorgi j mi tralegis mirrakontojn de roman’— ■
Dum dormeme mi legadis. jen el trapis kaj trapadis
Kvazau sur la cambra pordo frapo de amika man
‘Estas ia vizitanto. vir’ virino an infan .
Cu teran’ an (delatin'.”
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