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EDITORIAL 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, 1*73 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 All Boyhood. Ask the first boy you meet who he would like to be. and if he is an ordinary, healthy, athletic American youngster, he will probably name one of the baseball heroes whose pictures are now appearing on the pink sheets of the 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 pretty nearly typifying all that is great in the eyes of a box. 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; fame 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 the very thing that a small boy considers more fun than any . thing else in the field of human activity. 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 for success, the general's chance for victory. All of these are quite impressive lessons, and, when you are pointing out to your son Ihc rocks in the road of life that lie ahead of him, those shipwrecks should be called to his attention. BI T IE YOU REALLY WANT TO IMPRESS HIM. AND IF YOU WANT TO INSTILL INTO HIM A HORROR OF DRUNKEN NESS THAT WILL LAST AT LEAST UNTIL HIS MORAL FIBER HAS HARDENED. TELL HIM THE STORY OF ARTHUR RAYMOND. THE “BUDS” 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 run back to drunk enness. Raymond used to play in the Southern league before he went East. He uas a member of the Atlanta baseball team for awhile. The baseball historians will tell yon that Matthewson of the 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 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. it re presents to hundreds of thousands of boys the apex of human at tainment. ' Point out to your boy what Raymond 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 hanker 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 IX THE WORLD ( ARRIES WITH IT A THRILL THAT EVERY BOY IX AMERICA CAN UNDER STAND Os course, it is an immature viexv 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 consequent ly that is the only mind to which an appeal e«n be directed with ;.ny hope of getting a true response. So. when you talk temperance to your boy. call his attention to the tragedy oft ho man who should have been the greatest pitcher in all baseball history. Frying It on the Filipinos Ihe American people have boon wavering for some time over the question whether our public school > teaching is not a little too abstract and theoretic. We are earefullx considering the idea ot making a public school education conducive to earn ing a lix ing. Meanxvhile this idea of vocational training—the idea of teaching children to do useful things and do them well—has oeen actuallx tried by the American people —on the Filipinos. I lie Federal bureau ot education noxx' publishes an interesting report of this experiment on the 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 of Filipino schools are said to com pare favorably with work of famous French and Swiss experts, and promise to compete with them siieecssfullx in the world's markets. Ihe first thing that a Filipino girl does when she reaches the second grad.' in school is to make for herself a complete outfit of clothing. As for the hoys, they are trained in a great xarietx ot handicrafts with a special emphasis on the remunera tive trade of hat-weaving. In short, our system of education in the Philippine Islands is based on a notion that main Americans still regard as radical and revolutionary- to wit. that children should receive train ing to prepare them for the life that thex are really swing to live. ’ r ‘ The Washington bureau sax s that ‘ the Filipinos take to this educational program, industrial ami otherwise, quickly and profitably; and that the civil government finds its duties much less onerous now that the military invasion of the islands has been superseded h\ the educational invasion.” Having tried our medicine upon the little Filipinos with such .caution, and with results so favorabl. to the patients, is it not time to take thought of the sining; '' I’h.x su-iaii, heal tin sels I' ’ ’ The Atlanta Georgian :: GETTING READY :: i Drawn By TAD. 7 ,TS A Bl G- SEA(2. Mt/ \ f ’ "'M s " \ SOVT- CKo ? REpofST* ' I > wKm' l B»i nOgf® JI i list WIRHT ill I I ' i'/ in 1 \ ' V ■ \ Taking Off the Brakes rUSTBUDAV we rode high y along a level toad 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 sat on the gray rocks and chattered in the sun. and the clear blown water leaped and sparkled in the rushing stream. XVe 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 lyeloxx, a rickety wagon strain ed into view. It was below us, far, fat doxvn. and yet in the marvelous clear ait we could see every board in the old-fashioned settler's wag on. every bit of rotting 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 heat it way up here. Crack, snap—" Get along theie. you old fools.” ‘‘Take Off Your Brakes!” The man in the front seat leaned forward. "Wait a minute." he said. "Yes, It’s as I thought; the fool is killing his horses for nothing." anti li« made a cup of his brown hands and called down through the clear stillness of the rarified air: "Hello, there!” he shouted. "Take off yout brakes, take off your brakes” He lifted his arm and motioned. The driver down in the road be low lis'ened. stoed a minute, turned to his wagon, did something to a lump ot wood on the rear wheels, and up camo the wagon, lightly, easily, with no undue effort on the part of the horses. "Forgot his brake and then whipped his horses for it." said the man on the front seat How many time' have 1 done that very thing all along the road, and usually In the very steepest part of It. too. Once I had a big piece of work to do. hard work It was and exacting. It took or should have taken every bit of energy and courage and ad dress I had, but ther. was some one else doing the work with me, SOHO on. I didn’t like and I wa uiisvlable Every nlghl 1 Uy and WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18. 1912. By WINIFRED BLACK. thought and planned how 1 could get the some 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 fellow worker, and the work was a failure, a dismal failure. My brakes we e on. all the way up that hill, and 1 got to the top too late. How many of us do that very thing every .lay! The brakes ate t on. and we’ve forgotten them in the very steepest part of the hili, and that is why. whip as we may, the poor tired horses that pull the ve hicle of out ambition can never get up. Jealousy Is a Bad Brake. Jealousy is a bad brake. I've seen it send many a good wagon to the bottom of the gulch. Ive seen men, clever men, eat their hearts out in misery because another man as eleven 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 knoxv a girl, handsome, bright, witty. She has a rich father, and all that money and devoted affec tion can give her. but she is miser able. Jealous, envious, doesn't want to hear tlmg 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 brakes of envy. "The good fellow".—you know him. don’t you? I do. Never too busy to get out and get a drink, never too absorbed in any piece of work to stop and light a compan ionable cigarette, never too tired to stay up just an hour or so longer. The fellow in the wagon ahead of him started out with a good deal heavier load, and isn’t half such a good driver, but he took the brakes off w hen he started up the hill. The good fellow left his on. poor thing. He’ll wonder some day why the other w agon < a n. out ahead 1 Know two wutnui wUo live side by side—two. friends. Both their husbands are good men. ambitious, hard -working, good -1 e m pered. One of them has a home paid for and a good bit of property in tlio north end of town. The other man started out in life from the same school, with 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 rose locusts, feweet as honey when the blossom season comes. There shall lie 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 shadows on the rich wheat fields that spread below in the 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 the rain and the work of rising. The top. the top; see it rises fair and promising around the next bend of the road. Hoxv slowly we go: how the tired horses strain: what’s the matter, what is keeping us back ’■ Ah. there it Is—the brake, the brake of sloth, of ignorance, of dis slputlon, of small-minded jealousy of others, of timidity , of selfish In dulgence. Take off th. brake, good dtixei, oi w ( shall never reach the top. THE HOME PAPER Ella Wheeler Wilcox Writes on Girls Who Risk Loss of Self- Respect by Taking the H Initiative in Seeking Com- ® panionship of the Oppo- site bex. Written For The A.tlanta 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 xveek say. "My son can have any girl he wants. They all run after him. They telephone him, xxrite 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 for -peaking 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 who seek their attentions. If young girls could know the thoughts of these men. If they could hear the remarks made about them, they xvould hide axvay 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 drudgerj- of grinding toil, it yet seems as if that most necessary and useful inven tion. the telephone, become a prominent factor in the folly and boldness of young girls. In olden days a letter or a tele gram was needed to communicate with friendsand 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 seenrtoo urgent, and that also could be shown; so she conquered her desire to see the man until he made his desire to see her known. But the telephone leaves no evi- The Montreal Massacre By REV. THOMAS B. GREGORY. f | >HE "Montreal Massacre." the j duplicate of which does not appear in Canadian history, took place August 7, 1689. Just 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 were half awake. Men. women and chil dren were slaughteied like sheep. By daybreak 200 people had been butchered As many mor. had been taken captive, to |>e used as slaves, or. worse yet. as the Victims of the red man’s torture. As If their vengeance was Insati able. the Iroquol- crossed the river opposite .Montreal, m.J In plain sight of tin fori spent uvertii davs dence to a third party of having been used: it makes no record which can be shown, and it lends itself to all of excuses and pretended reasons for calling up the man who has not been suffi ciently interested to be himself ths caller. z Meaningless Conversations. More than one wise and sensi ble father has refused to keep a telephone in the house where his young daughters dwelt, because he did not wish his girls tempted to cheapen themselves in the way he 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 flatter and praise her to her face, but in his heart he despises her. And behind her back he is rldl. 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 xvho has been carefully reared by a refined, broad-minded mother, will never talk about a woman dlsre spectfully, no matter what she does. In his heart he may despise her, but he will not use her name light ly. Very few young men are reared in this way, and, therefore, the majority will boast of the success they have with silly girls who pur sue them, and they will make light remarks about them. If you, young Mies, who read these lines are one of those who 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 who makes the advances to woman. He will accept the atten tions which are forced upon him, 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 a book than go out witli a man whose society you had to seek. torturing the white captives. By night the victims could be seen tied to the stakes, amid the coiling flames, with the tormentors danc ing a ound them and laughing, de monlike. at their sufferings. Denonville. the commander at Montreal, was paralyzed with fear and terror and did not once attempt to go out after the savages. For two months the Iroquois overran Canada unchecked. Settlement aft er settlement was raided, and the torture stakes blazed everywhere. From Montreal to Three Rivet' crops went up In flames, dwellings xx ere burned and the terrified set tlers came coweiing with their families to the shelter of the fort at Montreal. And it was all so unnecessary. There was no reason why the Iro quois should have hated the French, but Chainplain was a Frenchman, and 60 years before Champlain had gone out of his way to attack th n —anrl therefore all Frenchmen w< e to be theii enemies. Gray-haired old fathers and mothers, innocent little children and men and xvotnon by the thou sands in the bloom of health an I power were to pay for the foolish ness of one hot-headed man —Sam- uel de Champlain Champlain had no business fight ing th. Iroquois on that July morn ing of the year l«t>9. and If he ba not done so—ls he hml been " ’ Ham Penn instead of Samuel Chnmplain -It Is morally certs'” that there would base been i"’ "Montreal Maskaci*."