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THE TRI WEEKLY
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Care Tri-Weekly Journal,
Atlanta, Georgia.
A BIBLE THOUGHT FOR TODAY
Woe is me! for I am as when they have
gathered the summer fruits, as the grape
gleanings of the vintage; there is no clus
ter to eat; my soul desired the first-ripe
fruit. The good man is perished out of
the earth, and there is none upright among
men. They all lie in wait for blood; they
hunt every man his brother with a net.
That they may do evil with both hands ear
nestly, the prince asketh, and the judge
asketh for a reward; and the great man he
uttereth his mischievous desire; so they
wrap it up. . . . Therefore I will look
unto the Lord; I will wait for the God of
my salvation; my God will hear me.—
Micah 7:1-3; 7.
Values of Vital Statistics
THE wofk-a-day value of the Sta,te bu
reau of vital statistics will be apparent
to anyone who notes that there are
now on file in the archives of that depart
ment as, many as 276,446 birth records, to
gether with 148,839 death records, and who
then reflects that its certified copy of a birth
or death record is, under the law, "prima
facie evidence in all courts of the fact stated
on the original record.”
Had this service been established genera
tions ago much costly litigation would have
been avoided, along with much heart-break
ing disappointment and injustice. “Our courts
are overloaded,” authorities say, "with trials
and appeals on questions involving the age,
birthplace, legitimacy, citizenship or parent
age, the date or place or cause of death of
some individual; all of which questions
could be settled immediately if a complete
record of each birth and each death had been
legally filed, as is now required by the vital
statistics law.” On such records may depend
a widow’s insurance, an orphans’ inheritance,
a disabled soldier’s allowance from the gov
ernment. Without them, accurate and
equitable divisions of the common school
fund are hardly possible. By them only can
counties determine whether or not tax
money spent for public health work is yield
ing due returns and procuring efficient
service.
These considerations alone show that vital
statistics are worth incomparably more to
the State and to its people than the ccfst of
registering and keeping them. But beyond
and above their value as records by which
legal questions can be settled is their service
ableness in campaigns against disease and in
analyzing sundry social ills. Before the
establishment of the bureau of vital statistics
Georgia had nothing like adequate or de
pendable data on malaria, tuberculosis, ty
phoid, or other maladies within her borders,
and hence no sure basis on which to lay
, plans soy their conquest. Rut thanks to the
bureau’s efficient service, there is accumu
lating a great body of classified sact 3 that
will prove continually more valuable to pub
lic health officers and also to scientists and
social welfare workers.
To know the truth is to have found the
way to freedom. The great business of the
bureau of vital statistics is to record the
truth concerning matters that lie at the
roots of the common weal.
Many a so-called charitable man draws the
line when it comes to buying his wife’s new
clothes.
to Little Miss Fixit, wuc
will quickly and cheer
fully see that things are
made right.
We want every sub
scriber to get his Tri-
Weekly Journal regular
ly ana punctually. We
want all of them to re
ceive what they ha~e
paid for. And if you
are not getting that,
write it to Little Miss
Fixit.
We want only satis
fied subscribers. A
small percentage of
errors are unavoidable.
i.Y JOURNAL
Stomachs, Here and Elsewhere
MANY an Atlantian must have read, the
the other day, with lifted brows, of
the eminent Austrian surgeon who
during a sojourn in America removed a
man's stomach, corrected certain defects of
the organ and put it snugly back, the patient
chatting the while as if nothing unwonted
were going on. Few may be aware, however,
that just that sort of operation Is performed
repeatedly in this city, with never a line of
news to blazon it to a gaping universe. Only
a fortnight past, we happen to know, the
feat was done at Wesley Memorial hospital
by an Atlanta physician, who deemed it
merely a part of the day’s work. Hal he
been visiting in Vienna, demonstrating his
skill before a foreign clinic, the cables or
wireless probably would have sent his name
vibrating round the world. But being a
Georgian to the manner born, he reaped the
proverbial honors of a prophet in his own
country.
So was it well-nigh a century gone with a
young Georgia doctor who settled at Jeffer
son, some eighteen miles from Athens, and
began experiments by which he discovered
the anaesthetic power of sulphuric ether.
Crawford W. Long, beyond the remotest of
tenable doubts, is the genius to whom man
kind is first indebted for that vast benefac
tion. But as he did not see fit to play nis
own Boswell, popular credit drifted, at the
time, to more talkative claimants; and only
within the last year or so has his birth-
State prepared to do his meme .’ justice with
a stature in -the Washington Hall of Fame.
True fame, be it granted, Is as Milton
sang—-
No plant that grows on mortal soil
Nor in the glistering foil
Set off to the wo -ld, nor in broad ru
mour lies.
The nobly great need no buzzing tribute; In
what they do and •what they are, not in what
is noised abroad about them, lives their
goodliest praise, their fairest guerdon. But
next to doing a golden deed, there is no
happier virtue -han to honor it, particularly
when the doer dwells amongst us, gilding
our very doorsteps with his gleam. Geor
gians, for all their pride of commonwealth,
have l- . curiously re... such n.Uters.
Lanier was hailed abroad as a master poet
long ere his ov>.< . took mea ire of his
genius. William T. Thompson, author of
Major Jones’ Courtship,” and A. B. Long
street, of Scenes,” now almost for
gotten on their native heath, were de
scribed a few years ago by a distinguished
historian at the University of Chicago as
having produced "perhaps the most crigiria.
writings” of the golden age of American
literature. For one instance more amid a
swarm, it has remained for an Indiana man
of letters, Claude G. I".vers, in his admira
ble "Party Battles of the Jackson Period” to
restore to their rightful place in American
annals the name and fame of John Forsyth.
If we of Georgia, and of the South at
large, were less sensitive to foreign stric
tures and discriminatingly alert to merit at
home, we should learn more and feel better.
Our record is written and our character re
vealed, not in what others say, but in what
we ourselves do. We no more should re
sent just criticism than desire unearned
praise; no more defend a weakness or a
wrong because it is in our midst than be
little an achievement because it belongs to
others. Too many times our attitude savors
of Touchstone's to his gaw r king sweetheart—
"A poor virgin, sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir,
but mine own.” Yes, just as frequently,
we err on the other side by overlooking or
underrating the true mettle of our pasture.
Heaven save us from that narrowest of all
provincials, whose eyes are in the ends of
the earth but who sees never a talent or
treasure at home.
A stomach is as much a stomach in Geor
gia as in New York; and a great surgeon
io as great in Atlanta as in Vienna. This
commonwealth has much to do byway of
squelching the demagogue and weeding out
the undesirable. But a greater and more
fruitful task is to encourage the build z and
the benefactor, whether in business, in in
dustry, in science, in literature and art, or
in education and philanthropy. To know
■Tuly our resources ana abilities, well as
traditions, to find the work we beet can do
and to do it with our might, is to be c 1
Georgians, good Americans. Infinitely better
is i.. mail cither boasting or apologizing.
It is a battle well worthy or sons and daugh
ters of the shining Sixties, a tug of which
we well may say, with Henry of Agincourt,
"He that hath no stomach to this fight, let
him depart.”
POINTED PARAGRAPHS
Only the successfu’ man is in a position
to value the world’s praise at its true worth.
It is far more pleasant to preach than to
practice. That’s why the minority practice.
If you had to live your life over again the
chances are you would make a different kind
of fool of yourself.
Crops may come and crops may go, but
the forbidden fruit crop is always with us.
A dollar you have to pay back is twice as
big as the one you borrow.
If you would keep your friends do not let
them permit you to indorse their notes.
FLOWING GOLD
BY REX BEACH
CHAPTER XI
A New Partnership
IT was several moments after they had left
the bank before "Bob” Parker could man
age to slip a word in edgewise, so rapid,
so eager was Gray’s flow of conversation, so
genuine was his pleasure at again seeing
her. Finally, however, she Inquired, curi
ously:
"Are you really good friends? I felt, very
queer, the instant after I had walked in.
But —I was bursting with good news and I
couldn't see Henry’s face until too late.
Then, it seemed to me ”
"Nelson and I are scarcely ‘good’ friends
—we never were chummy—but we were
thrown together in France and saw a lot of
each other. He is a remarkably capable
man and a determined fighter.”
“You mustn’t call me Miss Good any long
er,” the girl told him. "My name is Bar
bara Parker.”
"Oh, I like that!”
"I’m more generally known as *Bob.’ ”
"Even better! It sounds tomboyish.”
"It’s not. It is Tom Parkerish. Father
insisted on calling me that and—it stuck.
He’s a. man’s man and my being a girl was
a total surprise to him. So I did my best to
remedy the mistake and learn to do and to
take an interest in the things he was inter
ested in.”
"Those were ?”
Miss Parker looked up from beneath her
trim velvet hat and her blue eyes were de
fiant. "All that people like you disapprove
of; all that you probably consider undigni
fied and unladylike, such as riding, roping,
shooting ”
"Riding—unladylike? It’s very smart.
And why do you say people ‘like me?’ There
are no people like me.”
"You know what I mean. You’re not a.
westerner. You are what a cowpuncher
would call a swell easterner.”
Gray looked at his watch. "Even the good
must lunch. Where shall we go?”
Barbara s brows drew together in a frown
of consideration, and Gray told himself that
she was even more charming when serious
than when smiling. "Wherever we go, we’ll
be sorry we didn’t go somewhere else. We
might try the Professor’s place. He’s a
Greek scholar—left his university to get rich
in the oil fields, but failed. Then there is
Ptomaine Tomy’s. Cases the good and bad
by comparison. After you’ve been here a
days you’ll enjoy Tommy’s.”
"Then I vote for his poison palace. The
very name has a thrill to it.”
On their way to the restaurant. Gray said:
"Pa and Ma and Allie Briskow and the tu
toress have gone to the mountains—Ma’s be
loved mountains—and they appear to be
living up to her expectations. The moun
tains, I mean. The old dear writes me
every week, and her letters are wonderful,
even outside of the spelling. She hasn’t lost
a single illusion.”
"And Allie has a tutor!”
"The best money could secure. And, by
the way, you wouldn’t have known the girl
after you got through with her that day.’’
"There is a boy, too, isn’t there?”
"Oh, Buddy! He’s away at school. He'll
■ make a hand, or—well, if he doesn’t, I’ll
i beat the foolishness out of him. I’ve as
sumed complete responsibility for Buddy,
and he’ll be a credit to me.”
To wrest possession of a case table for
two at the rush hour was an undertaking al
most as hazardous as jumping a mining
claim, but Calvin Gray succeeded and event
ually he and "Bob” found themselves facing
each other over a discolored tablecloth, read
ing a soiled menu card to a perspiring
waiter.
"Just what are you doing and how do you
do it?” Gray wanted to know.
Barbara was glad to tell him about her
brief but eventful experience since that morn
ing at the Nelson bank, when she had exe
cuted her coup, and she excited the story with
enthusiasm.
"Having no capital to go on,” she ex
plained, "I’ve merely bought and sold on com
mission so far. but I'm not always going to
be a broker. I’m. making good, and some day
dad and I will be big operators. I’ve been
able to buy a car and most of my time I'm
out in the field. They tell me I’m as good
an oil scout as some of the men working for
the big companies; but, of course, I’m not, I
merely have the advantage; drillers tell me
more than they’d tell a man.”
"You are a brave child, and I admire your
courage,” Gray declared.
"But I’m not, I’m afraid of everything that
other girls are afraid of.” Leaning forward
confidently, the girl continued: "I’m a hol
low sham, Mr. Gray, but dad doesn’t know
it. After I learned how badly he wanted me
to be a boy, and how he had set his heart
on teaching me the things he thought a son
of his should know, I had a secret, meeting
with myself and I voted unanimously to fill
the specifications if it killed me. I abhor
guns, but I learned to shdbt with either hand
until—well, I'm pretty expert. And roping!
I can build a loop, jump through it, do
straight and fancy catches like a cowboy.
Horses used to frighten me blue, but I learn
ed to ride well enough.” Barbara attempted
a shy laugh, but there was a quaver to her
voice.
For a moment Barbara’s listener studied her
thoughtfully, then he said: "I’m iSpmensely
flattered that you like me well enough to
make me your confessor. Now then, I am
tremendously interested in what you have
told me about yourself, and I’m sure you are
a better oil man—oil girl—than you have
•led me to suppose. So, then, for a bargain.
I am going to enter this field in a large way;
if you will take me for a client, 1 will buy
and sell through you whenever possible. Per
haps we can even speculate together now and
then. I'll guarantee you against loss. What
do you say?”
"Why—it's a splendid oportunity for me.
And I know of some good things; I’m over
flowing with information, in fact. For in
stance—” Barbara hurriedly produced her oil
map and, shoving aside the dishes in front
of her, she spread it upon the table. "There
is a wildcat going down out here that looks
awfully good.”
Gray’s head was close to the speaker's,
but although he pretended to listen to her
words and to follow the tracings of her finger
with studious consideration, in reality his at
tention was fixed upon the tantalizing curve
of her smooth cheek and throat.
"If you will come to the office. I'll
show you how I think that pool lies,” Bar
bara was saying, and Gray came to with a
start.
It was midafternoon when he left the Par
ker office —at least he thought it must be
midafternoon until he consulted his watch
and discovered that, to all intents and pur
poses. he had completely lost two hours. An
amazing loss, truly. There was no lack of
youthful vigor in Calvin Gray’s movements
at any time, but now there was an unusual
lightness to his tread and his lips puckered
into a joyous whistle. It. had been a great
day, a day of the widest extremes, a day of
adventure and romance. And that is what
every day should be.
Continued Saturday. Renew your sub
scription now so as not to miss a chapter of
this splendid story.
MUSINGS OF ABE MARTIN
We guess th’ only time some folks ever
read is when they have their eyes tested.
Between th' exodus from th’ city t’ th' coun
i try club. an ’ th’ migration from th farm t’
I th’ city, it looks like we wuz up agin it.
BY BISHOP W.
WHAT EUROPE REALLY NEEDS
THE state of th© European nations since
the close of the World War is the sub
ject of constant discussion in maga
zines, newspapers, books, and pulpits.
All sortg of remedies have been proposed
for the relief of these conditions, and some of
these offered have been tried without much
success.
A treaty of peace was framed, with a
League of Nations annexed to it; but it fell
short of securing a warless and restored
world. The senate of the United States re
fused to approve it, and Mussolini, of Italy,
treated it with defiant indifference when it
stood in the way of his malign purposes to
ward Greece.
Evidently treaties of peace, like all other
treaties, are mere "scraps of paper” when an
ambitious man chooses to violate them and
feels able to do what he wishes to do with
them. Germany’s Insolent course in 1914
and Mussolini’s arrogant conduct in 1923
show how weak and worthless are treaties
when a powerful nation desires to break
them.
Our country has tried various schemes of
relief for war-worn and poverty-stricken Eu
rope. Funds running up into hundreds of
millions have been on efforts to
feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter
the houseless and heal the sick. In addition
to appropriations made by the federal gov
ernment for these purposes, many philan
thropic boards and societies have expended
very large sums on efforts of relief for Eu
ropean sufferers. All these efforts have been
quite praiseworthy, and they do honor to the
American people. But it must be confessed
that they have not accomplished by a great
deal what was desired and intended. They
have engendered widespread and inexcusable
mendicancy in some European countries.
Multitudes of people in those lands prefer to
wait on alms from the United States than to
work for themselves. And in our own coun
try some boards and relief societies are lin
gering superfluous on the stage after the ne
cessity which gave rise to them has nearly,
or quite, ceased. Expensive secretaries,
treasurers, and "drivers,” engaged by these
boards and societies, do not know how to
quit and go to other work. It is difficult to
wean them from their sweet and easy suck
ing of sustenance from the kind-hearted
public.
All these relief schemes, as well as
treaties, have not availed to restore peace
and prosperity to Europe.
More recently wise men have begun look
ing to spiritual forces as the only effectual
remedy for the woes of a wounded world,,
and the only certain cure for the ills- of
Europe especially.
In a brief article published a few weeks
ago in the Atlantic Monthly, ex-President
Wilson directed attention to religion as the
supreme need of the hour. Some months
before the publication of Mr. Wilson's article,
Mr. Lloyd George spoke most pointedly and
clearly to the same purpose, insisting that
the only hope of mankind was In a return to
God.
Editors of both secular and religious peri
odicals have proclaimed the game great truth
again and again.
Now comes Mr. Roger W. Babson, the sta
tistician, saying the same thing in a most
striking and emphatic utterance. He says:
"What Europe really needs is some honest
to-goodness religion. We shall see no real
and lasting prosperity until Europe gets
headed in the right direction.
"Some real religion will lead to a real
League of Nations; and when such religion
is evident, Europe will find all parties in this
country ready to help form such a league.
Europe today is a hotbed of jealousy, selfish
ness and political intrigue. Only as the
hearts of both the people and the leaders of
Europe are softened will the tangle be
straightened out. It may take another war
with all its gruesomeness and suffering to
bring Europe to her knees. We all hope it
will not; but in addition to hoping,/let us
pray, not only for Europe, but for ourselves
also that we may be honest and unselfish,
remembering that we have responsibilities
as well as opportunities, and that no country
can permanently prosper through the misfor
tune of another.” Mr. Babson speaks words
of truth and soberness.
LEARNING TO WRITE
By H. Addington Bruce
TIME brings with it no diminishing, but
rather an augmenting, of advertise
ments of book s and correspondence
courses purporting to teach people how to
write for publication. This of course implies
that there are multitudes eager to become
writers, and cherishing the belief that with
some technical instruction they can become
successful writers.
How many of them, I wonder, appreiate
that writing is an art, and like any other art
imposes a hard apprenticeship and makes
stern demands on its votaries?
On the testimony of newspaper and mag
azine editors there are no end of aspirants 1
who seem not to have even a glimmering of
this truth. Stories, essays, poems, pointless
and almost formless, devoid of beauty and
force, marred even by errors of grammar
and spelling, flood editorial offices. ’
Back they go to their authors —when the
necessary return postage is enclosed. Their
homecoming is not merely unwelcome. As
often as not it produces bitter thoughts of
the editors whose judgment was so poor as
to blind them to the merits of the rejected
manuscripts.
Comparatively seldom is the attempt made
to ascertain, through attentive study of the
manuscripts themselves, just why they were I
rejected. This would be a truly helpful
procedure, were it made, dispassionately and •
with reference to basic principles 3 **’ the
writing art.
Chief among these is the principle of never j
writing simply for the sake of writing. Al- i
ways the subject-matter is the thing that i
should determine whether one shah write or ,
no. And always it should determine to writ- |
ing only when it is something really worth i
writing about, and concerning which the ;
writer, through study and reflection, is in a j
position to write something worth reading. '
Even then the writing art requires clear
ness and beauty of expression. It will not do I
to set down one’s ideas in hapharzard sash- !
ion Editors frown on it for its crud ! ‘y and i
unintelligibility.
To gain clearness and beauty of expres
sion the hardest kind of thinking must be I
done, and labor of the hardest sort in writ- i
ing and rewriting. Nor will this alone suf- I
lice. There must be a diligent pondering of I
words and their meanings, and a cultivation :
of those niceties of feeling which constitute !
what is known as good taste.
All of which implies a degree of effort and
a degree of patience beyond the willingness i
of the vast majority of those who purchase I
textbooks on how to write or subscribe to j
correspondence courses on the same subject. I
Consciously or subconsciously, thej want to '
master the writing art quickly, and fancy :
they can master it effortlessly.
Neither of these things is possible, nor for
that matter is it possible to master writing [
OLD-TIME
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 11, 1923.
RELIGION
A. CANDLER
On the continent of Europe there has not
been a revival of religion since the time of
Luther, Melanchthon and Calvin. Rational-
Lim in some parts of the continent and ritu
alism in other parts has suffocated what Mr.
Babson calls "honest-to-goodness religion.”
Here and there have been local visitations of
grace under the leadership of such saintly
men as Adolph Monod; but nothing like "the
Wesleyan Revival” in Great Britain and the
"Great Awakening” in the United States has
blessed any nation of Continental Europe for
four hundred years.
It is a significant and instructive fact that
the nations in which such visitations have
prevailed during the last two hundred years
saved the world in the great crisis of the
World War.
A vigorous and spiritual type of Christian
ity can not prevail without such great re
vivals, and in default of such a type of
• Christianity nations become impotent to save
themselves, to say nothing to saving others.
Hence, Continental Europe must choose be
tween a revival of pure Christianity or ruin.
There is no other alternative, and our coun
try has a solemn duty with reference 'to this
matter.
We have tried feeding and clothing the
needy there, and the more we give for these
purposes the more voices cry "Give! Give!”
It is time now for us to begin to give "what
Europe really needs.”
Mr. Babson speaks in a most wise and
timely manner when he says, "Let us pray,
not only for Europe, but for ourselves also
that we may be honest and unselfish, remem
bering that we have responsibilities as well
as opportunities, and that no country can
permanently prosper through .the misfortune
of another.”
Our first duty In attempting to supply
"what Europe really needs,” is to seek a
great, deep, widespread revival of religioij in
dur own country. Such a revival in the
United States would raise the spiritual tem
perature of the whole world; but we can not
have it by aping the arid rationalism of
northwestern Europe, or mimicking the je
june ritualism of southern and eastern Eu
rope. We must return to the courageous
Christianity preached by St. Peter at Jeru
salem and Caesaria, and by St. Paul at
Corinth and Ephesus. We must revive reli
gion as did John Knox in Scotland. John
Wesley in England, and Jonathan Edwards
in America.
Not since the days of and Sankey
has our country been blessed by a revival of
religion of continental extensiveness.
We have had commercial evangelism and
clerical sensationalism ad nauseam, and we
have not been the better, but rather the
worse, for them.
We have had more than enough of cheap
and shoddy rationalism in the pulpits of
I many conspicuous churches, wherein pleas
ing performances paid for by rich men of the
I world and supplied by feeble parsonettes
have been exhibited Sunday by Sunday be
tween pieces of music ■which neither the
singers nor the hearers understood.
Products of that kind can not meet the
awful needs of the world in these dreadful
i times. Something more virile and virtuous
is required now, and that something is evan
gelical Christianity—"honest-to-goodness re
ligion.” This alone has ever availed any
thing in the crucial hours of human history.
In such a serious situation as that which
now confronts us commercial evangelism is
the merest child’s play, and a puerile ration
alism, picking and choosing in the Holy
Scriptures, is worse than child’s play. We
want, and we must ffave, for rescuing a world
rushing to j-uin, the robust religion of the
Apostles ami the heroic piety of the primi
tive church.
The times call for uncommercial prophets
like Luther, Knox, and Wesley.
Perhaps some such God-sent prophet is
on the way already. May he reach us soon!
When he arrives he will drive out the traders
of commercial evangelism, and the peddlers
of the curious rationalism, and the hawkers
of the nosegays of pretty ritualism, and he
will give to men the healing balm of Christ’s
great salvation.
This is what Europe
the world needs; our owji country included.
I Let every man search his own soul and
1 at once* seek such a revival of religion in his
I own heart.
MY FAVORITE STORIES
By Irvin S. Cobb
"Bob” Davis, editor of Munsey’s magazine,
; is one of the best letter writers in the world,
' as those who have had personal or proses
; sional correspondence with him can testify,
j He packs as much of wisdom into three lines
j on a sheet of office notepaper as some people
■ could put into a whole book.
I I remember once that a friend of mine sent
Davis a very bad short story. Davis returned
I the manuscript with these words:
i "Dear Bill: This yarn smells to Heaven,
j Control yourself, my dear boy—control your
: self?” .
But I think he rose to his most inspired
j heights here just the other day whefi he re
-1 ceived from an unknown author a jingle.
The sender, in a letter accompanying the
verses, declared them to be his very own. But
somehow or other, as Davis read them over,
he was struck by a haunting note of familiar
ity. He pondered a bit and then he had the
answer. Line for line, and almost word for
word, the poem was copied from a lyric
which had been sung years before in "The
Yankee Prince.”
So Davis fired the offering back to the
plagiarist with this letter:
"My dear Sir: I do not believe I care to
use this work of yours. It may be original,
as you claim. Far be it from me to take
issue with you on that point. But I will say
i this:
I "It is entirely too much of a George M.
! Cohancidence! ”
(Copyright, 1923.)
QUIPS AND QUIDDITIES
i For years there was a playwright around
i London who had more venom than ability,
j He could always pick a success to pieces and
invariably did, but he had never produced a
1 success of his own.
One night at the Savage club he became so
! foolish as to attack the immortal bard of
J Avon.
"Shakespeare,” he sputtered, "lifted half
his plots.”
This was too much for an old critic, who
came back at him in a flash:
"Then lift one of his and write a play
around it. Show him up.”
by textbook aid alone. One must look out
side the textbooks for one’s ideas and themes
and plots. One must pass from the text
books to oneself for the development of abil
ity, through practice, to handle effectively
the ideas and themes and plots finally gained
through using one's own mind.
So do not be deceived into assuming that I
it is easy for anybody, with a few technical
hints to blossom into a successful writer. !
Nothing could be further from the truth. j
(Copyright, 1923.)
i HER MONEY
BY CAROLYN BEECHER
What has gone before. —Althea Cros
by, dying, leaves her home and $50,000
in bonds to her orphaned niece and
namesake, whom she has never seen.
Her lawyer seeks for the young woman
in New York.— Now go on with the
story.
CHAPTER 111
IN the cloak and suit department of a
great department store Althea Crosby, a
wholesome and rather attractive looking
girl, worked every day from 9 until 5. She
liked her work, was satisfied and happy.
Here the old lawyer finally found her,
told her of her aunt’s bequest and showed
her a copy of the will, the original of which
he had carefully locked in his safe.
"The house is yours absolutely,” he told
Althea. “No matter what you do about her
instructions as to the money ehe left. It’s
a fine little place with a tidy bit of land.”
"It’s a wonder she didn’t tie some strings
on that too!” Althea said, the lawyer
thought disrespectfully. But she never had
known this aunt whose eccentric will she
just had read, the will that meant nothing
to her unless she married.
"No, that is yours to do with as you
please,” the old’ lawyer told her. Not quite
did he approve of this frivolous young per
son who joked over so serious a matter as a
will. "Shall I dismiss the two old servants
or will you retain them —live in the house?”
Retain servants! Live in the house!
Althea burst into hearty laughter.
"What would I live on?” she asked the
lawyer.
"Why—l—young women usually ” he
stammered.
"You thought I had a husband picked,
ready to wear, like the suits and coats in
my department?”
"I may say I thought it—likely. You are
twenty years old, Miss Crosby informed me,
and in our town girls marry young—or not
at all.”
"You say the house is absolutely mine.
Well, as it is the first thing I ever owned I
am coming up to look at it. Let the servants
go and rent it for me if you can. How much
would the rent be?” The practical side of
a working girl's mind had at once grasped
the idea of an increased income through
renting this house of hers.
"Not many rent in our town,” the old law
yer answered, "but the place is in good or
der, well furnished. If I can find a tenant
it may bring twenty-five a month.”
Twenty-five dollars a month for a whole
house! Althea paid more than that for her
room in a cheap lodging house.
"I guess I won’t throw up my job because
of my legacy,” she said, laughing. "But I’ll
come up soon and see my twenty-flve-dollar
a-month mansion,” she said as she bade the
lawyer good-by.
At her request he had left a copy of the
will with her. That night after her simple
dinner she read it over. It said:
"To my niece, Althea Crosby, I leave my
home free and clear, with all its contents,
my clothes and what few jewels I possess.
I also leave hei’ my entire residuary estate
of fifty thousand dollars ($50,000.00) in
bonds if she complies with the following: If
the said Althea Crosby marries before she
is thirty-five years old. said bonds are to be
given her the day of her marriage. If she
is not married when she reaches her thirty
fifth birthday, the money is to be used to
build drinking foun-tains for dogs and horses
in my home toNvn. . . .”
Althea read no further. The appointment
of two men to see that her wishes were car
ried out, the location of the drinking foun
tains held no interest for her.
"Whatever possessed her to write such a
will?” Althea mused aloud. '.‘Left me all
that money, but insists I marry to get it.
She was never married. Oh, well, I’ve got
the house and other things, and I should
worry! Then I’ve fifteen years to go be
fore I'm thirty-five. Funny—l’ll have to
marry money! Not any man’s money,
but my own!”
The little book so carefully sealed she had
thrust into her bureau drawer. She would
read it when she had time. She was mor©
interested in. thinking of the house she had
inherited than in reading some book—prob
ably a favorite edition of Miss Crosby’s or
something like that. The lawyer had said it
was a book.
‘‘l wish I could transplant that house tn
New York!” she said to herself. "Then It
might do me some good. But way off there
in that little Massachusetts town I might as
well not have it—unless it can be rented ”
Then she thought of the clothes and jew
els. Perhaps there would be more than she
thought. It was her vacation time soon—an
obligatory vaaction. She would spend it in
her own house.
She wrote the lawyer that even should he
find a tenant not to give possession until
August* 15. She would arrive August 1
remain in the house two weeks.
"I’ll take that book she left me and read
, u , p . declared, her conscience
pricking her a bit for the neglect.
Os course Althea had a roommate and to
S nnn tO ° f the Wll1 ’ thfl the
$50,000. But she did not tell her of the
clause by which she lost the $50,000 unless
she married.
Continued Saturday. Renew vour «üb
seription now so as not to miss a chapter of
tins splendid story.
QUIZ
Any Tri-Weekly Journal reader can
get the answer to any question puzzling
hirn by writing to The Atlanta Journal
Infonnanon Bureau, Frederic J. Has
kiiL director, Washington, D. C„ and in
closing a two-cent stamp for return
jmstage. DO NOT SEND IT TO OUR
ATLANTA OFFICE.
Q. Do fish shed their teeth? R. W H.
A. The bureau of fisheries says that such
an idea is a popular fallacy. Scientists be
lieve that at. certain times, probably spawn
ing time, the g UmR O s the fish swell, hiding
the teeth, and that the fish do not acuallv
shed hem.
Q. Is the north pole moving south?
Cy. C. IJ,
A. Careful analysis by the United States
coast and geodetic survey seems to indicate
that the pole-point is shifting progressively
southward toward the continent of North
America. The analysis shows a southward
drift of the pole amounting to a trifle more
than six inches a year. This would kyiount
to less than one mile in ten thousand years
and would equal only ninety-five miles in a
million years.
Q. What does a modern battleship cost?
J. D. W.
A. The navy says that the hattieshin
Colorado cost approximately $35,000 000
for construction, and the yearly maintenance
of such a vessel, including pay of officers
and men and other details of a similar na
ture, may be estimated at from $1,500,000
to $1,800,000.
Q. Was Caruso in San Francisco at the
time of the earthquake? D. S. G.
A. Caruso sang the role of Don Jose in
"Carmen” in San Francisco the night be
fore the earthquake.
Q. Was Kingston, Jamaica, ever destroyed
by an earthquake? A. H. D.
A. The city was practically destroyed hy
earthquake and fire, January 24, 1907. Th©
loss of lisp was between 1.000 and 1,500,
and the property loss more than $5,000,000.