Newspaper Page Text
?‘:‘ Advice to ung G
a Young G
2z Man = &
LG3 AR 1l
é By Kate Thorn. é l
== E have just received a letter from a young man in one of our
| southern cities, and give it verbatim: I
w “Madam: I am a young man of tweniy-seven; I am well
I well educated, and of a good family, but I have no business. '
====’:‘~—'-‘ How can I earn money? Ido not wish to work hard. 1
| » @ want something nice and easy—work for a gentleman. 1t ,\‘
| have thought of authorship—poetry, I prefer—but a friend X
" tells me that publishers, as a class, are very stony-hearted,
and find their chief delight in crushing aspiring genius, 1
want an easy chance, remember. Will you please advise me?
. “Yours, ete,,
Certainly, young man, we will advise you, with pleagure, We are delight
ed to make your acquaintance, though you are not an original character, by
any means. We know a good many like you,
That is what most people are after—an easy chance,
But having lived some time in this state of existence, we are enabled to
remark, from positive knowledge, that this is a hard world to get an easy liv
ing in.
Still, our advice is yours, and welcome,
Don’t think; don’t work; don’t try to; don't be a mechanic—all trades are
overstocked. Machinery will very soon do away with all necesgsity for men.
Don't be a clergyman; don’'t be a lawyer; don’t he a doctor; it is too hard for |
a young man of your cloth to get up nights and go tramping ten miles over }
the country to attend to boils on old women, and rheumatic tantrums in the |
joints of old men, and internal revolutions in the bowels of collicky babies. |
Don't be a mason; you might fall from=the top of a chimney, and be lost |
to your native land, |
Don't be a soldier; it is sometimes dangerous, and comfort yourself with 1
the old legend, “It is better to be a live dog than a dead lion.”
Don’t paint--it soils the fingers: don't be a sculptor—using the chisel |
would make you sweat. Don't be a drummer--you would have a bag to carry,
Don't be a street car conductor—you would be obliged to swear at your mo
torman. . Don't be a farmer—the mosquitoes would eat you up while you lay |
under the shade of an umbrageous maple waiting for the hay to make, : 1
Don't marry 2 rich woman for her money, for if she has a grain of com
mon £ense you will never see the color of a cent of it, and ten to one she’ll '
make you geét up in the morning and make the fire, while she lies abed and
reads a popular novel,
Don't be a poet. The demand for poetry has died out, and besides, there |
are no poets nowadays, and “spring” is a theme weil worn out. Poetry worth |
reading I 8 80 scarce now that the public would not recognize the genuine ar- |
ticle if they should see it—llike June butter, it is out of fashion,
Dan’t, be an author—for, you have been rightly informed, publishers are
stony-hearted; adamant and the ‘legendary nether millstone are down com- '
pared to them. They would let you write six months, and spend the best
blood of your life on the sorrows of some soulful Evangelina and her dark
“browegd Frederick Augustus, and they would fling the MS. into the waste bas
ket with no more feeling in the operation than they would evince toward a
dead frictiof match. j
) me.v man, it is a hard world. If you had never been born, it wounld have
heenqu ley in your pocket. There are no easy places yet discovered. |
: ‘e would advise you to get a quarter’s worth of laundanum, swallow it, !
fl;d,jb to sleep. It would be as easy as anything you could do, and quite as
satisfuctory to the community,
¥ No; wa don't charge anything for advice—New York Weekly,
«"*ll X . R
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i 4
“Things Go Wrong l
. Oftener
FROM EXCESS OF PARTY SPIRIT
»
THAN ERROR OF JUDGMENT. 4
i ™ e sh s ’
é By James Bryce, British Ambassador. S
Dol et gy an iy
: s 0O one seeing the faults that belong to popular government
'; and the difficulties of bringing it up to the ideal which the
, N theory of democracy sets up need be disheartened, not even
i " by repeated failures. History shows that other forms of
|| government—autocracy andoligarchy—have their fanlts also,
| and graver faults, You may find now and then a wise and
i o e high-gouled despot who will do his best for his subjects, but
e ayee there is no security, there is not even a probability that he
will be succeeded by other despots of like virtue, You may
have a prudent and skilful oligarcic government which will extend the power |
of the nation in the world, but it is certain to govern in the own ¢lass inter
ests, not in those of the people at large. This was the fallacy that led even
s 0 eminent a writer as the late Sir Henry Maine to do injustice to democracy. i
He pointed out its faults. He omitted to point out the faults of other govern
ments, All governments have their defects. I
Alhough the best institutions and the best administration system are |
worth playing for and striving for, there is another thing even more important, I
That thing is the participation in the work of government by the whole body
of the people, Leaders, honest, capable, courageous men are just as neces
sary in a democracy as in other forms of government, The people must seek ’
them out, must honor them, must give them, if their honesty is proved, its
confidence. But the whole people must continue to watch everything they do,
and never surrender its judgment or its votes into thelr hands,
When things go wrong it is not so often from errors of judgment on the
part of t:. people as it is from an excess of party spirit which has led them
to follow biindly an unserupulous leader, or from an indifference and negli
gence which has enabled unscrupulous and selfish men to pursue their own
advantage at the expense of the public good.
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|
5,000,000 |
’ ’ |
Child Deserters |
e A S '
By Charles F. Warner. 3 !
ORE than twenty million children attended the puble
schools of the United States during the school year ending
in June, 1907. From this vast army there will be at least
five million deserters before the roll is called at the begin
ning of a new school year. Why do so many children leave
~ the public schools before they have completed the elemen
tary stages of the curriculum? Chiefly, 1 believe, because
the schools, generally speaking, do not offer enough of the |
kind of training which has an evident practical value. Dr.
Kingsbury found in her inquiry into the relations of children to the industries
for the special report on the subject issued by the Massachusetts Commis- |
sion on Industrial and Technical Educution, in 1906, that many parents, when l
their children reach the end of the compulsory school period, would gladly |
make great sacrifices to keep their children in school if they were able to
#ee any direct practical advantage in further school training.
There Is something decidedly wrorg in a soclal system which permits
large numbers of children to leave =chool and waste from two to four years
of adolescence in unskilled labor for a wage so small that it can claim no
consideration In comparison with the loss of opportunity that such children
experience, not to speak of the physiral, mental, and moral damage that they
may suffer~From “The Charitics and the Commons.”
THE MIRACLE,
Amoni the hills and valleys of the soul,
Working his miracies, Love came to me
And touched my blinded eyes and bade
me sea.
I watch the water redden in the bowl, &
I drink the marriage <wine, Upon the saroll
Of life T trace the word of prophecy.
In flaming latiers; my mortality
Burns on this altar as a living coal. .
Many of Love’s discivles have pursued
His wandering steps with worldly zims
and wishes:
Many have climbed, as for a festival,
The ntm;}ntain where he feeds the multi
ndie, ¥
For them the counting of the loaves and
fishes, .
For me-the wonder of the miracle!
—Elsie Darker, in The Reader.
5
i HIS SPRCTACLES, }
Thiey Creaied a Mew World Full of
vetalls, i
I am bothered about my speetacles.
Since I have had them the world has
been so different. Formerly I saw
things only (or mainly) in the mass.
People were not individuals, they
were parts of a picture of blurred de
tails. I spoke to this or that part of
the composition, and voices answered
me, What the voices meant, how the
spot they came from looked (what
expression was on the speaker’s face,
as the cant phrase has it) were ques
tions for intuiticn to answer. I lived
in a world of vague suggzestion. I
got almost more information from |
the touch of a man’'s hands than from |
the look of his eves. And yet I knew :
the general meaning of faces quite
well when they were near me-—«bet-l'
ter, pethaps, than I do new. Lon
don! You can imagine what London ‘
was like, evening London above all.'
It swam in a haze of romancs,” won
derful masses of cab, bus and man,‘
aglow with diffused light, loomed out |
of mist and vanished into it. Clatter
of unseen feet echoed up to my very
ears. Life wag a perpetual surprise,
an adventure., Who knew what faces
would suddenly take form out ota’lhe
void?
I put on the glasses and looked at
the optician’s young man and beheld
that he -was wrinkled. A
Horribly wrinkled. e was all
wrinkles. His face wa’nothing but
innumerable ugly lines and splotehes.
Expression there was none that I
could focus—llines and splotches were
all that could be seen. i
Would I keep them on? Or shotld
he put them in the case? The fies
bunched themselves up into hideous
questiioning creases, . v
I would kecp them on tu as to get
used to them, I muttered, lub"u?fi
scious of complete loathing. s
The oblivious young man w&d
“Yes, you'd better give your S
a bit of practice before you stast
reading, sir. Good evening, sis”
Awith more creases).. . = b :
T #®tepped out stupidly ‘into he
street, shying at the doorpost, into
the concentrated glare of electric
lights that danced and flashed on the
lenses of my spectacles.
After a moment or two of dazzle
I began to see. To see with terrible
distinctness. The eyes began to ac
cept this new universe. So awfully
new! There was no background
now, no picture, no atmosphere. Iso
lated men and things to the furthest
limit of vision stood out, rounded,
raw and palpable. I could put my
eyes on three sides of them. There
was no street of soft-blending shad
ow and gleam; there were only
houses, lamp-posts, electric globes,
vehicles, passengers. There were no
men, only hats, coats, trousers, boots,
jerking ridiculously. No faces—
only features—and when they got
nearer, labyrinths of ghastly twitch
ing lines. No concrete thing at all
—only irrelevant details of things
which the painful vision kept pur
suing with more and more minute
ness.
And yet my eyes had a feeling of
pride-—pride that they could see so
far, that these dots of men slouch
ing under a lamppost before the Man
sion House should vibrate so clear
an image to Cornhill. They began,
with something of an effort, to dis
regard these insistent neighboring in
dividuals and to shoot off into vast
perspectives, to dally with details
hundreds of yards away. This was a
much larger world I had got. If it
would only adjust itself, would be
having. But as yet it was so pur
poseless; every object was detached
from its fellows, The old harmony
was gone. Things no longer fitted
in. Details thrust themselves upon
me. I lost a glance at the soul of
the passer through watching the
twiteh of his lips.
Then the faces began to simplify,
lines assumed their proper subordi
nation. I perceived men still had
expressions. 1 perceived that they |
had eyes, fearful eyes, thousands of
eyes, surrounding me, looking at me.
I was betirayed. 1 felt utterly em
barrassed; almost I blushed at this
infinite critical inspection, Rvery
button and stitch of me knew iteelf
for laughter. 1 felt that my hat
was too small, my hair too long, that
my boots were unpolished. I hastened
to re-hat, clip and polish myseif, |
1 had come out of my ch:‘\’salfs.!
For the first time I was nakedly
within handsirike of the world,
The novelty was intercsting. One
was afraid of it all, but attracted by
it. lln this world one was in constant
danger of attack. A milltant world.
Every man away down the street
walked with his hand on his sword
hilt. A brief fit of shivering, and my
spirit rose to the challenge of it.
I walked the pavement thrilling to
the glance of these innumerable
{dentities.
Nothing has altered. The abjects
¥ Jook at are just the sama My eves
are the same Only now two little
pieces of convex pebble are fixed be
tween the eyes and the objects. One
takes off the spectacles and ex
amines them for a solution to the
mystery. Absurd! What easy vie
tims ars our senscs of tHeir instru
i ments!
{ It makes one uneasy. Tangible
maiter cezses to bhe the steadfast
thing we had imagined it. How can
1 be sure that what thess pebbles
{ show me is truer than my old vision?
!A little difference in the curving of
jthe lens, and lo! another universe.
! How can I be sure that both of them
{are not quite untrue? ‘What is the
standard? What do you see, readers,
lonz-sighted, short-sighted, clear
eyed, purblind readers? Upon what
'cort of universe do those unreliable
cyeballs of yours look out? We have
ziven common names to the things
you and I see, but they are not the
!sumc. Luckily there seems to be
' some sort of family likeness between
them, else were we hopelessly cut
'off from all comparison. What you
'mean is somothing like what I mean
by umbrella, but not quite. And
’whcn we talte more remote and com
'Hicated objects—when we combiae |
' them, when we begin to deal with ab
giracts, how we must diverge! It is
Eu::mnny to realize that each of us
?I]:(JV:’)S and lives and has his being
in an entirely personal, particular,
orizinal world. A place that was
never seen or imagined by any one
else, To realize that, though I may
getihelp by comparving your notions
with mine, in the last resort I must
throw myself on the mercy of my
ever-changing impressions.
Which is the better world? The
old one, vague but steadfast and or
ganie; or this new, real, definite,
anarchic world, with its perpetual
shifting paradox? For, mark you,
there is no world of the spectacles.
The spectacles have opencd to me
infinite panorama of worlds all
different, all unbelievable. When
was my state more gracious, think
vou—before ‘'or after the spectacles?
This question I have not quite der
cided.—London Daily Mail.
WESTERN FRUIT. i
Great Development of Fruit Raising
in the Northwest.
California oranges, apricots, plums,
cherries, grapes and other fruits have
long been familiar to Eastern peo
ple, who, if they have thought about
the matier at all, have very likely
regarded this influx of Pacific coast
fruit as due to climatic conditio: 3
which do not exist elsewhere, and the
fruit itself as incapable- of being
raised in the East. ie Eastern
apple, they may have su¥posed, was
supreme and destined to remain so.
Such pergsons are doomed to dis
appointment. Apples from Oregon,
Washington, Idabo and British Co
iumbia have already captured the
greater part of what is knpwn as
the “fancy trade” of the Atlantia
coast cities and the supply is increas.
ing at a wonderful rate. Moreover, I
Northwestern fruits are rapidly gain.
ing the ascendancy in England, the
Continent and Awustralia.
The rapid development of the fruit
growing industry in this region is
due to the great fertility of the soil,
the intellisence and energy of the
Western farmers, and the co-opera
tive organizations of growers. Poorl
fruit has been discouraged and al
most eliminated. Packing is in
boxes, with every apple wrapped
separately and warranted to be per
fect. The number of apples which I
a box contains is printed plainly on
the outside, and there is absolutely
no ‘“‘deaconing.”
These methods have enabled the
Western growers to realize a profit
on apples and pears of SIOO to SIOOO
an acre; on berries from S4OO to
S6OO an acre, and on other things
even more, One especially skilful
grower of tomatoes received SSOOO
from a single acre,
The fruit pack of the region this
year will be the largest in its his
tory—five times as great as in 1906,
Canning associationt have been
formed and cauneries built to take
chre of the surplus, 'fhey have been
successful from the start. One can
nery paid for itself in a week.
There is no mystery about this
remarkable development. It is due
solely to intelligence, enterprise and
hard work, and is just as much with
in the reach of Eastern growers as
it was in tke grasp of their Western
rivals. The lesson ought not to be
lost upon Eastern farmers who wish
to retain such of their fruit market
as still remains to them.—Youth's
Companion,
“At"” and “Across.”
Disseniing from the opinion of
most of his fellow-countrymen, Pro
fessor John Lester, an English speak
er, at a meeting of the Friends’
Educational Asgsociation, in Phila
delphia, declared that the manners
of boys in the United States were
beiter than those of English lads.
lThis he held was due to the influence
'0( American mouthers and woman
teachers in our schools.
“The American boy,” said Pro
fessor Lester, ‘'learns his first lesson
in morality at his mother's knee.
The English boy generally learns his
across his father's.”"-——Woman's Home
Companion. :
An Unmentioned Ancestor,
Mr, B, is very proud of his ancient
lincage and never lets slip an oppor
tunity to boast of it. At a dinner
where he had been unusually ram
pant on thla‘ subject a fellow guest
quieted him by remarking: “If you
c¢limb much further up your family
tree you will come face to face with
the monkey. '—Lippincott's
MODEL STEPS INTO VENUS' SHOES, BADICE, ETC,
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atherxge M. Berger, the Cloak Model, Who H
ors o ’ o
e a Perfect Specimen of Physical W e T
omanhood.
Skirt Guard.
One of the nuisances in connec
tion with propelling a baby carriage
or go-cart, as every mother knows,
is the impossibility of preventing the
skirts coming in contact with the
dirty wheels; consequently, in time
ruining it. How easily this can be
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avoided is shown by a Michigan man
who has invented a skirt guard for
the purpose. The guard is very
simpi. in construction, consisting of
a pair of wheel fenders in the form
of a quarter-circle. These fenders
are supported on brackets which ex
tend from the body of the baby car
riage and from the axle. They are
positioned just back of the rear
wheels. Instead of the skirt brush
ing against the wheel, it strikes the
fender or guard, being thus protected
from the dirt which naturally ad
heres to the tires of the wkeel.—
‘Washington Star. e
Still Master of His Fate.
When Learoyd, in the natural ups
and downs of a literary career, went
into a cheap—very cheap—New York
restaurant for dinner, and found Da
vol in a waiter’s apron, he was
amazed-—Davol, the cleverest fellow
in the class!
‘“You don’t mean,” stammered Lea
royd, “that you have come down to
this?”
“Come down?” repeated Davol. “I
don’t dine here, Learoyd. I merely
wait.”—Youth’s Companion,
The Interviewed.
A stranger approached a little girl
who was somewhat accustomed to in
terviews with the usual question,
“What's your name, little girl?”
The little girl, without looking up
from her sand pie, replied: *My
name is Edith, and I'm four. She's
my little sister; her name's Mildred
and she's two. 1 don't want to go
with you and be your little girl, and
I know you ecan't steal my little sis
ter."—Harper's Weekly.
Machinery That Ran the Clermont,
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It is interesting to contrast this picture ot the crude machinery with
which Robert Fulton successfully ran the Clermont a hundred years ago
with the present-day engines of our transatlantic liners, The plcture is
from Technical Literature,
-Russian Parallel to the Druce Case.
The Grand Duke Nicholas Mikhail
ovitch has lately issued in St. Peters
burg a little work entitled “The
Legend of Alexander I. in Siberia.”
One finds in it curious parallels to the
sensational mystery which Mr. Plow
den is endeavoring to unravel. Thus,
like the fifth Duke of Portland, the
Czar Alexander I. is alleged to have
led a double life and also to have
arranged a bogus funeral of himself.
The story has long been firmly cred
ited by the middle and lower classes
in Russia, and it has even received
a measure of countenance from the
best of Alexander’s biographers, Gen
eral Schilders. Of this legend the
Grand Duke has made a careful
study, with the result that he shows
conclusively by documentary and
other evidence that it is a legend and
nothing more.—Daily Graphic.
Adjustable Handle.
Woodworkers will be interested in
a folding drawing knife recently in
vented by two Ohio men. The draw
ing knife, as shown in the illustra
tion, has folding handles, capable of
adjustment to a number of different
positions. The knife can be folded
inwardly to a position entirely out of
the way, directly over the cutting
edge of the knife blade, so that the
knife can be handled in perfect safety
when not in use. It occupies but little
space when placed in a tool chest,
and there is no danger of injuring
the cutting edge. The construction
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‘also admits of the handles being set
‘at right angles, and at other angles,
‘giving the workman a wide range of
adjustment, and making it possible
to set the handles in positions best
suited for special kinds of work. The
means for locking the several ad
justments assures rigidity, it being
impossible for the handles to slip.
Of Boston's new Aldermen one is
a reporter, one a banker, one a car
penter and another a blacksmith.
