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THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN
Pu Wished 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, IR7S
Subscription Price—Delivered by carrier, 10 cents a week. By mail. $5.00 a year.
Payable in advance.
A Temperance Sermon
From the Baseball Field
The Story of the Pitcher Who Might Have Been the Idol of
l All Boyhood.
Ask the first hoy you meet who he would like to be. and if '
he is an ordinary, health', athletic American youngster, he will
prohahlx name one of the baseball heroes whose pictures arc ;
now appearing on the pink sheets of ihe newspapers.
It may not seem the most elevated ambition from the view
point of a grown-up person, but after all. a successful baseball >
player comes prettx nearly typifying all that is great in the i
eyes of a hoy.
A successful player must have health and strength. His in- \
come during the years of his greatness equals that of many men ;
of independent fortune; lame is his. and he gets as much ap- <
plause every day of his life as a candidate for the Presidency. ?
Moreover, his money and his fame come to him for doing i
the very thing that a small hoy considers more fun than any- <
thing else in the field of human activity. !
t
There have been preached in America a million temperance ■'
sermons, more or less. It has been pointed out that whisky has |)
destroyed the merchant’s chance for wealth, the lawyer’s chance 'J
for success, the general’s chance for victory. All of these are H
quite impressive lessons, and, when you are pointing out fro J
your son Ihe rocks in the road of life that lie ahead of him. those
shipwrecks should be called to his attention.
BUT IF YOU REALLY WANT TO IMPRESS HIM. AND IF
YOU WANT TO INSTILL INTO HIM A HORROR OF DRUNKEN- i
NESS THAT WILL LAST AT LEAST UNTIL HTS MORAL
FIBER HAS HARDENED. TELL HIM THE STORY OF ARTHUR \
RAYMOND. THE "BUGS" RAYMOND OF THE BASEBALL
FAN. and his miserable death at Chicago in a cheap hotel room as ?
a result of a miserable quarrel, the roots of which ran back to drunk
enness.
Raymond used to play in the Southern league before he went '•
East. He was a member of the Atlanta baseball team for awhile. j
The baseball historians will tell you that Matthewson of the J
Giants is the greatest pitcher in the baseball game today. They
also will tell you that Matthewson at his best was a mere tyro com- J
pared with Raymond when the whisky fumes were out of his head >
and he was a clean, upstanding, applause-loving athlete.
Even with his handicap of drunkenness. Raymond left a name !
and a record upon the roll of baseball glory. This roll may not '
be the highest roll of honor in the world, but such as it is. il re- '
presents to hundreds of thousands of boys the apex of human at- i
tainment.
Point out to your boy what Raymopd might have been and
what he became.
To a boy the prospect of becoming President is dim and not
altogether attractive. The prospect of becoming a great banker
or a great merchant is likely to mean to his immature mind the
giving up of the time that might be spent in doing what he'd like
to do for something that does not sound to him at all alluring.
BUT THE PROSPECT OF BECOMING THE GREATEST
BASEBALL PLAYER IN THE WORLD CARRIES WITH IT A
THRILL THAT EVERY BOY IN AMERICA CAN UNDER
STAND
Os course, it is an immature view of Life's success and a view
that the boy will outgrow as he passes on toward manhood, but the
immature view is his only view now The immature mind is his only
mind to think with and consequently that is tin* only mind to which
an appeal can be directed wit h any hope of get ting a true response.
So. when you talk temperance to vour boy, call his attention
to the tragedy of the man who should have been the greatest pitcher
in all baseball history.
Trying It on the Filipinos
The American people have been wavering for some time
over the question whether our public school teaching is not a
little too abstract and theoretic We are carefully considering
the idea of making a public school education conducive to earn
ing a living.
Meanwhile this idea of vocational framing—the idea of
teaching children to do useful things and do them well- has
been actually tried by the American people- on the Filipinos.
Ihe Federal bureau of education now publishes an interesting
report of this experiment on tin- other side of the world.
We learn that nearly 400,000 Filipino school children are
today engaged in some kind of industrial work. In lace making
and embroidery, products ot Filipino schools are said to com
pare favorably with work of famous French and Swiss experts,
and promise to compete with them successfully in the world's
markets.
Ihe first flung that a Filipino girl does when she reaches
the second grade in school is to make tor herself a complete
outfit of clothing. As for the boys, they are trained in a great
variety’ of mtmuemts with a spi -;;,i emphasis on tlie remunera
tive trade of hat-weaving.
In short, our system ot education in the Philippine Islands
is based on a notion that many Americans still regard as radical
and revolutionary to wit. that children should receive train
ing to prepare them for the life that they are realh going to
live.
Ihe Washington bureau says that "the Filipinos lake to
this educational program, industrial ami otherwise, quickly and '
profitably . and that the civil g< \ernnient finds its duties much
less onerous imu that the military invasion of tin islands has
been superseded by the educational invasion "
I Having tried mu medicine upon the tilth F' lipiims with
F 1 '• and with result- -o fa'.oi dm to (Im pato-nt* i- if
,al “‘ thought of the sayilig; "Physician heal thy
The Atlanta Georgian
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Taking Off the Brakes
x y ESTEKI >A V we r ode high
y along a level road built at
the very edge of a yawning
precipice.
The colors of autumn were al
ready flaunted by the roadside —
yellow, brown, dull red. The little
mountain squirrels sal on the gray
rocks and chattered in the sun, and
the clear brown water leaped and
sparkled in the rushing stream.
We traveled in a great cushioned
automobile and whizzed along the
highway built and graded by the
convicts in the great gray prison
far below in the canyon.
All at once, down on the winding
road below, a rickety wagon strain
ed into view. It was below us,’ far. .
far down, and yet in the marvelous
dear ait we could see every board
in the old-fashioned settler’s wag
on. every bit of totting rope that
held the old vehicle none too se
curely together.
There’s the driver walking to
lighten the load. What a whip he
has, and how he cracks it—hark,
yes, you can hen- It way up here.
Crack, snap—" Get along there,, you
old fools.”
‘ Take Off Your Brakes!”
The man in tile front scat leaned
forward. "Wait a minute." he said.
"Yes, it s as I thought; the fool is
killing his horses for nothing." and
he made a cup of his brown hands
and called down through the clear
stillness of the raritied air:
"Hello, there!" he shouted. "Take
off your brakes. take' off your
brakes." He- lifted his arm and
motioned
The driver down in the toad.be
low listened stood a minute, turned
to bis wagon, did something to a
lump of wood on the rear wheels.
»nd up came the wagon, lightly,
easiic. with no undue effort on the I
pat t of the horses
Eoigot his brake and then
Whipped bis horses so it." said the
man on tl < front s at
How mane times have 1 done
that \< rc thing nil along the road,
and umi illy in the very steepest
part of It. too
< nice 1 had a big piece of work to
do. bitt'd work it was and exacting
li took or should have taken every
hit of energy and . ouragi and ad
dies- I had, but tlp-it wo* Monn
otn ids. doing the *<■ k with me,
I ' i I •. j
mi ‘“bi, i.i.iy mgiH ; i, o and
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18. 1912.
By WINIFRED BLACK.
■ \ •
thought and planned how 1 could
get the sonfe one put on some other
work.
"He is in the way," I kept think
ing. "‘all in the way." And 1 used
up my strength and my energy and
my resources—doing what? My
work?
Not at all; but hating my fallow
worker, and the work was a failure,
a dismal failure. My brakes were
on. all the way up that hill, and I
got to the top too late.
How many of us do that very
thing every day! The brakes are
on, and we’ve forgotten them in the
very steepest part of the hill, and
that is why, whip as we may, the
poor tired horses that pull the ve
hicle of our ambition can never get
up.
Jealousy Is a Bad Brake.
Jealousy is a bad brake. Ive
seen it send many a good wagon to
the bottom of the gulch.
I’ve seen men. clever men, eat
their hearts out in misery because
another man as clever as they did
a good piece of work and was
praised for it. Take off the brakes,
my good fellow; take off the.
brakes; you’ll never get anywhere
if you don't.
I know a girl, handsome, bright,
witty. She has a rich father, and
all that money and devoted affec
tion can give her. buj she is miser
able.
Jealous, envious, doesn’t want to
hear that any other girl is pretty .
can't bear to see that any other
girl is admired. "Cat" they call her
.when they speak of her. and she’s
growing into a sour, disappointed
old maid. Just because she's trying
to climb the hill with the brakes on,
the dreadful, hampering brajet sos
envy.
"Th< good fellow"—you know
him, don’t you" 1 do. Never too
busy to get out and get a drink,
nev< r too absorbed In piece of
work to atop and light a compan
ionable cigarette, never too tired to
stay up Just an hour or so longer.
The fellow in tin wagon ahead of
him started out with a good dual
heavier load, and isn’t half such n
good driver, blit he took the brakes
off when tie started up the hill Thi
good follow left his on, poor thing.
, He'll wondei some day why th.
I 0111. I w Hgot C II.K- out ahe.
I know two women who livi »|d.
by aide —two friends. Both their
husbands are good men, ambitious,
hard-working, good-tempered.
One of them has a home paid for
and a good bit of property in the
north end of town.
The other man started out in
life from the same school, w ith the
same chances, but his wife is the
brake that keeps him down.
Wasteful, extravagant, thought
less, never orders a meal till it’s
about time to have it. and runs to
the shops for Whatever she can get.
No thrift, no planning, hit or miss,
rough and tumble.
Poor husband, he can't take off
the brake of such a wife, so he’ll
stay at the bottom of the hill —
where he belongs—for choosing her.
What a fair, high road we travel
most of us, with pleasant shade
trees and crossed here and there
with singing waters.
Look! Over there in the shadow
is a pretty spot for a home. Let’s
get up to the top of the knoll and
lay out the grounds.
Reaching the Top.
There shall be the door stone,
there the curve of the walk. On
this side shall stand a rich bush of
. flowering purple, and over on this
little hillock shall be a brave show
of the lose locusts, sweet as honey
when the blossom season comes.
There shall lie the petunia beds—
gay. ragged, pretty things like some
flounced country girl at an outdoor
ball—and here shall blow the pop
pies. and behind them shall stand
the hollyhocks.
What a view there’ll be at the
top of the hill, what a sweep of
landscape, what a wealth of fol.
lowing cloud shadow's on the rich
wheat fields that spread below in
th. smiling valley
At the top. at the top.
Let's get to the very top. out of
the sun that beats too hard, out of
th. rain and th.- work of rising.
I he top, tile top. see it rises fair
111,1 promising around the next
bend of the road. How slowly we
a ''- bow the tired horses strain;
" hat s tin matter, what is keeping
us back?
Ah. then It is the brake, the
brake of sloth, of ignorance, of dis
sipation of small-minded Jealousy
of others, of timidity, of selfish in
‘■u geiu'i I ak« off the brake, good
'''livi, ot w. -hail mver reach the
top.
THE HOME PAPER
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Writes on
Girls Who Risk Loss of Self-
Respect by Taking the
Initiative in Seeking Com- *8
panionship of the Oppo-
• Snauy? l " fiii n.ll
site oex.
Written For The Atlanta Georgian
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Copyright, 1912, by American-Journal-Examiner.
IT is a bit disconcerting to one
who feels any pride in woman
. hood to hear two mothers in
one week say, “My son can have
any girl he wants. They all run
after him. They telephone him,
write him, and put themselves in
his way continually."
And when one knows such state
ments to be absolutely true, it Is
worse than useless to try to blame
the mothers tor speaking with such
seeming egotism of their sons or
disrespect of young girls.
While touring in the Orient, a
mother with a young son of nine
teen confided to a traveling friend
that she had come away with her
son for a year, in order to take his
mind away from the throng of
young girls who made such contin
ual inroads upon his time that he
could not pursue his studies at
school.
Youth’s Mind Diverted.
The boy was the only child of a
banker; and he had never shown
any tendency to be a gallant, but
was so pursued by the attentions of
girls from ages ranging between
thirteen and twenty that he was
losing all interest in his studies.
The girls of the present era seem
to be the pursuers; the young men
are the pursued.
And when men are pursued they
are invariably contemptuous of the
women w-ho seek their attentions.
If young girls could know’ the
thoughts of these men, if they could
hear the remarks made about them,
they would hide away in shame and
confusion.
While the writer of this article
believes in all modern inventions as
a part of the progress which will
eventually lift the race to a higher
plane, giving minds and bodies
freedom from the drudgery of
grinding toil, it yet seems as if that
most necessary and useful inven
tion. the telephone, has become a
prominent factor in the folly and
boldness of young girls.
Tn olden days a letter or a tele
gram was needed to communicate
with friends and acquaintances, and
both gave an opportunity for reflec
tion before sending.
Many a girl was no doubt tempt
ed to write a letter to a man asking
him to call, and before she finished
it her pride and self-respect came
to the rescue. She did not want
him to possess such evidence of her
forwardness.
A telegram would seem too urgent,
and that also could be shown: so
she conquered her desire to see the
man until he made his desire to see
her know-n.
But the telephone leaves no evi-
I he Montreal Massacre
By REV. THOMAS B. GREGORY.
''T'HE "Montreal Massacre.” the
| duplicate of which does not
appear in Canadian history,
took place August 7, 1689.
.lust 60 years before. Champlain
planted the seeds of which the mas
sacre was the harvest. At Montreal
the Iroquois -got back" at the
French for what had been done to
them near Lake St. George.
In the midst of a terrific thunder
storm between the night and morn
ing of the 6th and 7th of August.
1689. fourteen hundred Iroquois
warriors landed behind Montreal,
beached their canoes and stole in
upon the unsuspecting French set
tlers, and what followed beggars
description. For generations that
summer was to be known as "The
Year of the Massacre."
Before the storm had ceased the
Iroquois had stationed themselves
in circles about every house out
side the walls of Montreal, and at a
given signal the ferocious braves
fell on the settlement like veritable
beasts of prey.
Neither doors nor windows were
fastened in those days, and the peo
ple, deep In sleep, were dragged
from their beds before they wire
half awake. Men, women and chil
dren were slaughtered like sheep
By daybreak 200 people had been
butchered. As many more hud
been taken captive, to be used as
slaves, or, worse yet, us the Victim*
«>f the red man's toi t tire
if th. Ir vengenm • was Insati
able, the linqimi. . ossed th.- rivet
opposite Montreal, and in plain
night of tin tori »t< iii s. dgyg
dence to a third party of hax i: -
been used; it makes no ree<>:
which can be shown, and it |ena
itsclf to all sorts of excuses
pretended reasons for calling U n
the man who has not been sufii
ciently interested to be himself the
caller.
Meaningless Conversations.
More than one xvise and sersf.
ble father has refused to keep a
telephone in the house where his
young daughters dwelt, because -
did not wish his girls tempted
cheapen themselves in the way io
knew many of their associates
were cheapened by continual silly
and meaningless conversations over
the wire, and by the making of
haphazard engagements through
that means.
No man can or does respect a
girl who makes advances for his
attentions. He will meet her half
way; he may fla.tter and praise her
to her face, but in his heart he
despises her.
And behind her back he is ridi
culing her and boasting of her fa
vors.
Because she has no self-respect,
he does not consider it his place to
defend her name or reputation.
An absolutely manly man. one
w ho has been carefully reared by a
refined, broad-minded mother, wi !
never talk about a woman disre
spectfully, no matter what she
does.
In his heart he may despise her,
but he xyill not use her name light
ly. Very few young men are reared
In this way, and, therefore. tl»
majority will boast of the sure,
they have with silly girls who pur
sue them, and they xvill make lighi
remarks about them.
If you, young Miss, who read
these lines arc one of those ix i ■
send messages and invitations to
your masculine friends, trying to
make engagements with them, re
member the risk you run, the risk
of being laughed at by the youths,
and gossiped about by their moth
ers and older friends.
Will Accept Attention.
No amount of entertainment you
receive from the efforts you make
can ever repay for the loss to your
good name.
A man of any age likes to be the
one w’ho makes the advances to
woman. He xvill accept the atten
tions which are forced upon bin.,
because they flatter his vanity, but
he will in his heart despise the girl
or woman who gives the initiative
Better stay at home and read i
book than go out with a man who--'
society you had to seek.
torturing the white captives B'
night the victims could be seen tied
to the stakes, amid the coiling
flames, with the tormentors danc
ing around them and laughing, d •
monlike, at their sufferings
Denonville, the commander at
Montreal, was paralyzed with fear
and terror and did not once atte
to- go out after the savages. l -| ’ r
two months the Iroquois overran
Canada unchecked. Settlement aft
er settlement was raided, and ti>°
torture stakes blazed everywlier.
From Montreal to Three Rivers
crops went up in flames, dwellings
were burned and the terrified se -
llers came cowering with their
families to the shelter of the f
at Montreal.
And it was all so unnece-> i
There was no reason why the I ’
quois should have hated the Frein
but Champlain was a Frenchniar,
and 60 years before Champlain
gone out of his way to attack th
—and therefore all Frenchm. it w.
to be their enemies.
Gray-haired old fathers
motheis, innocent little child’
and men and women by the ti"
sands in the bloom of hcalU
power were to pay for the f<>
ne-n of one hot-headed man
uel <ie Champlain.
cimmplain hud no busine- in:
Ing tile Iroquois on that Jal'
ing of th. year 1609. and if
not doin' HO if he had le I-
Inin Penn Instead of Sai-
1 ’hnmplnin ii is mo ait' .• i ■
tlmi tl.eie would hnvt b- ■ a
M*»ht 1 1 11 v