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EDITOR IAL PAGE
THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN
Published Every Afternoon Except Sunday
By THE GEORGIAN COMPANY
At 20 East Alabama St., Atlanta, Ga.
Entered as second-class matter at postoffice at Atlanta, under act of March 3. 1373
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■What Sort of Ambition
| Should a Man Have?
» r r
I The Ambition TO KNOW HIS POWERS, to Know THEIR
LIMITATIONS, and to Work Accordingly.
One of our readers asked the editor whether he thought ambi
tion worth while, whether a man is not as well “if he remains in the
humble place and slation of his birth."
We replied the other day to the of a column in a collec
tion of words that perhaps suggested to some the Scriptural quota
tion: “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowl
edge ■ "
In that editorial of generalities there was not room to be precise
as to what specific character ambition should take on. We shall try
to enter more into detail now.
Is a man happy “if he remains in the humble place and station
of his birth?" Our reader asked that question.
A man may find in the lonely cottage, or the village, or the big
city street of his birth full opportunity to develop all his powers, to
do all the good that is IX HIM. to utilize wisely the uplifting force
that we call ambition.
As a general proposition, however, a cultivated and civilized
human being, like a cultivated and civilized shade tree, demands
occasional transplanting. Man's destiny is to move about on the
face oi the earth. It he sits in one spot like a tree or a gooseberry
bush, he doesn't give himself a lull chance.
It is good for the country boy to go into the city. It is good for
the city boy to go into the country it is good for each Io study that
which he has not seen.
As to the man remaining in the “station of his birth,” that is
impossible.
At his birth a human being is little better than a mass of putty.
He is a poor, almost bald, toothless, deaf and blind little creature,
unable to do anyHi ing tor h i nisei I. brom this “station of his birt h. “
which is a condition of absolute h<'lplessne,ss anti uselessness, he may
develop to be one of the great men of the world. Or he may stop
and pass his life at any oi a million intermediate stations. He
may stop off in his progress, so to speak, at the first station, which is
that of physical development and commonplace life.
We all teel within ourselves a force stirring vaguely, indefi
nitely. We want to do something, and that desire to DO something,
if it is based on honesty, on a sound desire to lie useful to other peo
ple in the world, may properly be called ambition.
The successful, ambitious human being is the one that MAKES
THE BEST POSSIBLE I 'SE <»E 11 IS (>R HER POWERS
The world is full of a perverted emotion which is improperly
called ambit ion.
That perverted ambition is selfishness, the vanity, the baseless
egotism that makes us refuse to do useful work that we might do
because it does not seem important enough to our vain idea of our
selves.
The young girl should be ambitious in the future and in the
present.
As Io her future ambitions, she may let her mind roam as far as
she will. It she wants to think ot marrying a king, or marrying the
little boy around the corner and making a king of HIM by her in
fluence. let her do so. It she wants to think’ that she will combine
the powers of Rachel. Jenny Lind and Bernhardt that won’t hurt
her.
Bui she must have an ambition right in the present -a definite
ambition. ‘
She must make up her mind that she will do what she can to be
useful in the hmis< where she lives, and to SET A GOOD EX
AMPLE wherever sin* may be.
The young hoy should be ambitious also.
And wthile he dreams occasionally of being president of the
1 nitid States, or making the first good flying machine. he must
have for his present ambition something simpler and more feasible.
I' l'i |s oplr a>’e pom. the highest ambition he van bail' is to
support himself and help THEM.
Il ! liey are making a sacrifice to give him an ed neat ion that will
help all oi them later, .he boy s ambition should be to do everything
in his .. orl to be worthy oi the kindness ami the opportunity they
are giving him.
E.ery boy ami young man and young woman should have an
ambiiion to understand the public affairs of the country, and. if pos
sible. to have some influence upon them.
The great thing about the Republic in which we live, one that
we too ofien forget, is that ALL OE THE POWER LIES IX ALL
OE THE PEOPLE
Evey boy and girl and young man and woman should study
political atL”irs. understand public questions and be ambitious, in a
little or a big way. to help make this land, which money is now al
lowed 1o control, a genuine republic. GOVERNED IX THE IXTER
ESTSOE THE PEOPLE
It is proper that young men and women should have a reason
able desire to accumulate money Poverty is slavery.'
' >nly t lie greatest genius can d o real w ork in the face of povertt ,•
and Io do it he must be content to endure suffering and humiliation.
-.wry young man should have a good, honest ambition to make
a reasonable fortune, to put himself and those dvpendejit on him be
yond the reach of want, beyond the whims of some other human
being.
But the making of money should be a secondare ambition. It is.
properly speaking, not ambition at all only a development of the
instinct of self-preservation.
The real thought of each of us should dwell on the possibility
of doing something entirely new which w ill be of hen, tit to all of 1 he
world—or of doing EXTREMELY WELL something that is neces
sary.
Encourage vour own ambition. nurse it. AXD MARK OPT \
DEFINITE (OERSE EOR IT
A man cun no num sail through life without a compass a guid
iug. directing will than a ship van sail across the ocean without a
needle pointing in one direction all thi' time
You may change your course; you may tind as your abilities
develop t hat you must change \ our plans
Don t be airaid or ashamed to change the course of vour ambi
tion.
Bl 1 HA\ E A PLAN. and stick to it until you make up your
mind that it was wrongly selected.
Ami remember this Xo man is worth his salt who does not trv
to do something that u ill help OTH ERS Everything that we enjoy
on this earth comfort, luxury we owe to the ambition of the
. uusdw-u. brat■ m< i that lived her. b. tori us Try to b< lik< them,
| in a big or a little way, and good luck to you
The Atlanta Georgian
W EDXESDAY. SEPTE MB E R 11, 1912.
“No; Got All the Help I Need”
Drawn By HAL COEEMAX.
■ //
’ .. ’ f 7" I ... 7
WI V”' ' ! bit hy7 /, ?
>7 x-k y . —is. -M. ' r r //
Here you see the effect of child labor on the CHILD and on the JOB SEEKER; not forget
ting its ver.v different effect on the manufacturer who employs it.
rhe Price of Pleasure
By DOROTHY DIX.
| ''HE <>tl )■ (] ;l \ th P papers prlnt
| ed a story that had in it a
lesson and a warning that
every gjirl who read it should take
to herself.
Phis was the story of a girl who
was a good girl, who belonged to
a most respectable family with
whom she lived and who was at
work making her own honest liv
ing, but she loved pleasure and
gayety, just as every *glrl does,
and she wasn't as wise to the dan
gers that beset a girl in a great
city as a girl should be.
So this pretty, foolish young girl
let a good-looking, well dressed
masher speak to her on the street
under the pretense that he thought
he recognized her. and then, as he
apologized in a graceful manner,
she permitted him to walk home
with her. He looked like a gentle
man to her unsophisticated eyes,
and when ho asked her to go auto
mobile riding with him the next day
the temptation to go spinning over
the roads on a hot summer even
ing. as she saw other girls doing,
was too much for her. and she ac
cepted his invitation.
The next evening the man drove
up in a beautiful car. and the girl,
all smiles and happiness, and joy
ous anticipation, fluttered into it.
and they drove away, and that was
the last that her family saw of her
until three or four days later when
a poor, broken, hollow-eyed crea
ture staggered home. and fell,
fainting, across her doorsteps, cry
ing out she w ished she was dead.
The doctor said she had been
drugged and she herself can tell
nothing of what happened on that
fatal ride except that they stopped
lor a drink, and that the next thing
that she remembered was that she
was in some dreadful house from
w hich she had just sense enough
to escape, and that some woman
there gave her an old waist to put
an in place of the pretty clothes
that had been taken from her.
The Price She Paid.
This was the price that one girl
was called upon to pay for a bit of
pleasure. Innocence ami happi
n ss, for an hour's spin in an au
tomobile it's a pretty poor bar
gain. isn’t it, girls'.' Yet how
lllilU) of you ate tempted to make
just as losing a trade as this poor
girl did lor the sake of just as
fleeting an amusement'.
of course, you don't put it that
way to yourself. You don't figure
it out You don't try to balance
accounts with what you want to
do and what the results may he.
\ll young people are plungers
They take what they want with a
reekl'ss di.a g ird of eonsequem ■s,
believing i hat • mellow t> ,- other
they art gouts to tsvapt having
to pay the piper. Or that the
score will be light
But they never do, and the bill is
always heavy. Especially for wom
en. In the end every woman set
tles her account with life to the
last penny, and for everything that
.•X | A
11 I
w <: v nr ro
DOROTHY DIX
she has gotten she pays, and if
there is anything that site should
not have had, she pays for it with
tears, and sorrow, and shame.
The saddest thing on earth is
that when nature gives us tastes
and desires, fate does not always
give us the means to gratify them.
This is the tragedy of life, and es
pecially it is the tragedy of poverty.
The working girl on a $5 or $lO or
sls salary has precisely the same ,
y earning for pretty clothes, for gay -
ety. for companionship, as does the
rich girl with a hundred or two
hundred-dollar allowance.
The rich girl has her home, her |
social circle where she may meet
young men properly; she has her
mother to chaperon her. and so
she may indulge her natural de
sire for pleasure and for mascu
line society safely.
Ttie working girl often has no
home but a hall bedroom; no place
to receive men company except in
an overcrowded little flat or on the
street. She Ims no way to meet
young men; no amusement save
the dance hall, oi a cheap excur
sion; no mother, or a mother too
hard narked to look after her In
these conditions lies her danger.
She craves diversion after her
dull day's work in office or store
and the temptation to take it
without counting the cost is great.
Il is the greatest in Sulmner when
the balance of the world is amus
ing Itself, and s>> I sa\ with all the
earnestness that I <,m command,
ibrn't pa.' too high a price lot your
• fun. girls.
Because you are bored and lone
ly, don’t pick up the acquaintance
on a park bench of some good
looking youth of whom you know
nothing except that he has a glib
tongue, and is dressed like a
ready-made clothing advertise
ment. It may ba very amusing
and romantic to flirt with him and
meet him by appointment under
a certain tree every evening, and
it may thrill you for him to hold
your hand and kiss you in the
moonlight, but just count up the
cost of the entertainment.
Those kind of affairs don't end
at the altar, girls. That's not the
way men get acquainted with girls
they mean to marry. With the
first cold blast of Autumn your
butterfly lover will fade away, and
leave you, perhaps with a broken
heart grieving over the man who
looked like a gentleman and wasn't
one. There are no wolves in the
forest so dangerous as those two
legged wolves in sheep's clothing
who prowl around the City in Sum
mer seeking pretty maidens whom
they may devour.
And there’s the temptation to go
off on the excursion, girls. Some
times they are all right and some
times they are not. Sometimes you
get in with a gay and hilarious
crowd w ho are whooping things up
and drinking to much, and you trail
along because you don’t want to be
a spoil sport, and high spirits are
contagious and you think it won't
hurt, for once.
You can’t afford itv girls. Believe
me. such pleasures as that come
too high and that many a girl who
indulges in one such frolic spends
the balance of her life in repent
ing it.
Don’t Listen to Him.
Then there's the temptation of
the automobile. When they were
first put on the market they were
called, in the slang of the day,
•'devil's wagons." They are still all
that, and some more, when some
old rounder with pouchy eyes and
a leery look tells you that his
wife's away and asks you if you
won't ride out with him to a lit
tle roadhouse lie knows where you
can have dinner on the terrace.
Your nerves are racked with the
heat and work, and nothing else
could seem so alluring as the
thought of speeding away from
blistering streets to shady coun
try roads, but before you go count
the cost, and see if the price isn't
prohibitive.
There's nothing for nothing in
this world. For everything we grt
we must pay. Just rriiwmhoi that,
and don't l>uj your fun at a price
that w ill leave you a bankrupt.
THE HOME PAPER
Reducing the
Living Cost;
How We
Keep It High
$
/
Problems Which the Citi
zen Must Study IL He
Wants to Cut His Bills.
Beginning of High
Prices Not Due to Na
tional Causes.
By THOMAS TAPPER.
THE cost of Ifvine is the best
advertised subject of the
present tune. Its popular
ity will continue. It interests ev
erybody who spends money; more
particularly those who have to earn
the money before they spend it.
College boys on a regular allow
ance are not worrying.
They tell us in books and maga
zines that the purchasing power of
the dollar has steadily fallen, until
what it can do for us as compared
with what it did for our grand
fathers is a shameful difference.
They point out in papers and
magazines what may be the causes
of the weakness that has assailed
the dollar as its worst disease.
Some of these causes are: (1) The
over-production of gold; (2) the
control of corporations; (3) the
government purchase of railways;
<4) the necessity for getting divi
dends on watered stock out of the
general public.
Read each one of these causes
again, slowly.
You Are a Voter.
You are a voter. You have been
told about the dignity that the
franchise bestows upon you. That
dignity is a real thing. Vour Amer
ican citizenship is held up to you
as a great possession. It is a great
possession. The power of your vote
has been sung to you for years.
And it has power.
But., on the other hand—(l) You
have a home in which your interest
is centered; (21 you have a job that
takes your attention all day long;
(3) you have a body that needs rest
all night long.
Now, what can you do today be
tween sunrise and sunset to make
dealers sell you the necessities of
life at a cheaper rate than you paid
yesterday?
You are probably convinced that
you can do nothing. Ant! you are
pretty near right.
But still you are interested in the,
cost ot living, because you find it
harder and harder to make both
ends come near each other. Must
you sit down and take what they
band out to you, or can you do
something about it some time?
You probably can do something,
or help to do something.
Two problems are before you:
1. An interest in your own affairs.
2. An equal interest in public af
fairs.
You will never make good with
the contents of the pay envelope if
you dodge either of these.
The first means an Intelligent
administration of your own affairs
NOW.
The second means an equally in
telligent administration of your af
fairs as a citizen ALL THE TIME.
The Parting-A Dialogue
By CHESTER FIRKINS.
H \ XD so it s all over;—tomorrow
71 Your motor will whisk you away.”
“1 don t think twill brintr much sorrow;
Aou’ve been s> —-so stupid today!”
“1 m sorry; I oqght to-be jolly;
It s heen my best summer—and you—”
‘‘Oh. what do I matter? What folly!
Os course, as vou say. it’s - all through.”
‘‘By Jove! But I wish it WAS easy;
A man doesn't take thijigs that way.”
“Xo. Men just grow tired and freezy,
And say, ‘Lot ely summer—good-dav.’ ”
“Why, Polly, you don't mean I’ve hurt you:
You don't mein to say that you CARE!”
“Xo, no. no! I hate you! You flirt, you!
1 —don t— see- how—ever—you—dare!’’
“You do!—Xo. you CAN’T! Why. IXe told.you;
I m only beginning; I'm POOR!”
(io on then; I m not going to hold you;
111 not he your burden, I'in sure!”
“By Heaven, you SHALL he! I love you!
I don t care a rap for your gold.”
Dick. Stop it! How impudent of ton!
"S'k dearest! Wht WERE vou so cold?"
fit * ■
Jf -jXKBr
F jTyWfc
H-
These statements are true:
1. The necessities of life , ~s ,
more than formerly.
2. Wages have not increased as
rapidly as the cost of living has in
creased.
Which Will We Do First?
Rut these statements arc also
true:
1. The moving picture shows are
crowded every night.
2. The slot machines are full nf
pennies. i
3. Saloon keepers are not failing.
4. Tlie tobacco companies are
paying large dividends.
5. The brewery output of New-
York city along is reported to be
sixty-four millions a year, and still
rising.
The first question, then, is this:
Shall we begin to reduce the high
cost of living, or shall we begin t>>
study THE COST OE HIGH LIV
ING?
Both these questions arc right at
the front door, like hungry wolve.-.
Which must be killed first?
It has been stated repeatedly
and probably with truth that the
automobile craze has mortgager!
more homes, furniture, jewelry,
clothing, furs and the like than
any other form of extravagance.
Now. an automobile, on thcs»
to a man of three or four
thousand a year, is no more extrav
agant than many small forms of
temptation are to a shop girl on
three dollars and a half a week
But we must have some f un
some time.
Certainly. But don’t take it out
in trouble.
111.
Undoubtedly, the first wolf to kill
•is the one that answers to the naim
of the COST OF HIGH LIVING.
Once that animal is out of the wav
it will be easier to get down to
business, and to see what is in
volved in killing the other—the
high cost of living.
The Trouble Is Individual.
The beginning of the trouble !«
not national. It is individual. We
are, most of us. poor administra
tors of our money and our time. In
short, extravagance Is in the air
and we all catch the disease. A
man Into whose family there
comes twelve thousand dollars per
annum told me that when he had
to buy a new suit he didn’t knov
where to get the monev to pav the
bill., ’
But he has an automobile, a
house in town, and a house out of
town.
Now, comparatively few earn
twelve thousand dollars per year,
but a great many do not know ho"
io pay for a new suit when thev
need It.
Probably there is something in
the cost of high living, after all.