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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 Subscription Price—Delivered by carrier. 10 cents a week. By mail, 15.00 a year. Payable in advance. ■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.