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Jill j? ii WiW ■I W* IL. *>? 1 m< lw£ \J'< k " iT^ I*' 1 *' e VOLUME SEVEN NUMBER TWENTY-TWO CARTERSVILLE ROME CAPTURE EDITORS Georgia “Regulators ” Enjoy Lively Outing Among the Hills and Then Hie Away to the Sea. LARENCE PERRY was not mistak en. When that plucky and enter prising young editor of The Car tersville Tribune went to Americus last year and told the editors that his newly-adopted home of Carters ville would do the thing “to the queen’s taste,” he succeeded against great odds in convincing a C majority that their going should not be de layed. We went —and we found that Cartersville, the booming, blooming home of celebrities, had worked herself into a veritable frenzy of joy and generosity over our coming. Flags were flying, fair women were smiling, gallant men were hurrying, automobiles were “honking,” superb chefs were planning, old-fashioned cooks were cooking—while turkeys, chickens, pigs and pastries were simply “too full for utterance” over our editorial joys. The Friday night reception at the palatial home of the Honorable and Mrs. Sim Mum ford would have done credit to King George’s coronation, while Mayor Paul Gilreath’s charming speech of welcome, Editor Pat Mc- Cutchen’s genial and jaunty response and that indescribable Saturday night banquet prepar ed and served by the deft-fingered 1 , beautiful ladies of Cartersville —with Wurm’s famous orchestra sprinkling exquisite music all around, well, all this was more than poor pencil-push ers are used to —and our whirling craniums are in danger. An Ideal Textile Town. The most practically impressive thing Which the editors saw at Cartersville was that dream of a factory community, the American Tex tile Company. A special train carried us out to Atco, two miles from the city, and just such an ideal working community every editor de clared he had never seen before. With macad amized streets, chert sidewalks, flower yards and no two houses made alike, the town of Atco presented a refreshing and inspiring contrast with so many factory towns where the dwelling houses are chiefly built on gullied hillsides unfit for the habitation of cows, and the whole compound presents an oppressive sense of depleting sameness. But in addition to these attractive Atco homes, every conven ience of the modern city is found, while a handsome brick school building, with a com modious auditorium, used for educational work and church services is the magnet for community gatherings and good fellowship. If every factory community in America were like Atco we would have less labor problems and better and safer citizenship. PLEADING FOR TALLULAH —Page Eight ATLANTA, GA., JULY 27, 1911 A Witching, Wineless Banquet. We have seen banquet halls north, south, east and west but for an entrancing, breath taking concept of decoration Cartersville “took the cake” —and then presented the cake! For instance, after all the other pretty effects who but the ladies of Cartersville would have thought of cutting into pennants and festoons newspapers—just plain old newspapers and hanging them in graceful draperies as a fitting decoration for newspa per men? Can’t tell you about it, ladies and /•WiigtrW JUDGE A. W. FITE. gentlemen, you’ll just have to imagine how that banquet hall looked. Os the delicious menu we will not try to speak, and all of the after-dinner speeches must be “passed up” here save that of Cartersville’s “grand old woman,” Mrs. W. H. Felton, who — Pressing with unsteady feet, Where her fourscore summers meet — looked down upon us from her sunlit heights as if she were the benignant grandmother of us all. So long the consort of her brilliant preacher-statesman husband, and busy through several generations in giving wholesome lit erary stimulus to the reading world, she bade us, her children and grandchildren, to make people happier with our spoken and written words. Let commercial and social clubs remember everywhere that the Cartersville banquet was a rousing success without champagne or other intoxicating drinkables. But we men might as well confess that it would have been a greater success if the gentlemen had sacrificed their cigars and cigarettes to the comfort of the la dies present. Os course, our Cartersville hosts were only being generous and hospitable, as other towns have done and will doubtless con tinue to do. But it is the custom we don’t like, if men must smoke, let them do it at “stag” affairs —but not where ladies are, turning them dizzy with the mixed fumes of the noxious weed. We men boast our “Southern chivalry” —let’s prove it at our banquets. It was indeed fitting that President A. L. Hardy of the Press Association, should rise at the conclusion of her beautiful address and entertain a motion that Mrs. Felton be elected a lifetime honorary member of the Association, and likewise fitting that the last five minutes before Sunday morning should be given to Hon. Editor John N. Holder, the golden-heart ed speaker of the House, in which to pay a ten der tribute to the sustaining, inspiring influ ence of “Woman!” Sunday in Rome. Sunday morning some of us who had been “brought up” to go to Sunday school found ourselves walking in the sacred foot-prints of that knightly Christian lawyer, Will J. Neel, who was one of the greatest Sunday school superintendents that any town ever saw. From his home in the skies he calls yet with “beck oning hands” to the youth he loved so well. On the train we sang “Sweet bye and bye” and rolled into such a warm “Hill City” wel come that we forgot the tears of the frowning clouds. Os course Jack McCartney and Wilson Hardy of the sprightly, bristling Tribune-Her ald were there. Indeed, genial, gifted Jack met us “piece o’ the way.” The rotund form of big-hearted, big-bodied Capt. J. Lindsey Johnson was already aboard, and while these eyes did not locate the nimble-witted Nevins, of paragraph fame, when we landed we know it must have been the effect of his scintillating scintillations that put a sort of electrical ozone in the Roman atmosphere. Like the princely man he is President A. W. Van Hoose of the great and growing Shorter was ready with his car to whisk The Golden Age family to the hotel, and soon the manag ing editor, the circulation manager, the asso ciate editor and the editor-in-chief were listen ing to “the patter of the rain on the roof” and trying in the arms of “nature’s sweet re storer” to forget the delectable excesses of a banquet that lasted until morn. At 4 o’clock Dr. G. W. Young, the famous (Continued on Page 5.) 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