Atlanta Georgian. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, September 25, 1912, EXTRA 1, Image 14

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EDITORIAL PAGE THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN Published Every Afternoon Except Sunday Ry THE GEORGIAN COMPANY At 20 East Alabama St.. Atlanta, Ga Entered as second-class matter at postortlce at Atlanta, under act of March 3. IS7J Subscription Price—Delivered by carrier. 10 cents a week. By mail. |5.00 a year Payable In advance r Delayed Weddings and the Money Question It seems a strange thing that with all the varied discus 4»on of suffrage and the sex question, none of the enthusiasts for sex equality has mentioned the money question as it affects marriage. The Continental theory that marriage is family busi ness. and that it is the duty of the parents to see to the ma terial welfare of the young couple, finds no echo on this side of the ocean. The American idea of marriage is still the pioneer idea. In the old days, when women were scarce and the question of organizing a home resolved itself merely into a mating, the men of this land were glad to win anything that wore a pet ticoat. But with the present day dense population and the struggle for existence in keen competition with other men, this crude form of family life must of necessity give way. A crying evil of the present day is the delay of marriage until one or both of the couple reaches middle age. More and more it is the fashion for a man to wait until he is thirty-five or forty before he enters matrimony. That means that a man is forty or forty-five before his babies come along, and that when his sons and daughters are passing through childhood he is too old to be a companion to them. And those delayed mar riages are nine times out of ten caused by material financial considerations. It is becoming harder and harder as the years go on for a young man to earn enough to start and provide for a family. But if the bride brought with her an income equal to that earned or possessed by her husband this condi tion would be changed instantly and more youthful marriages would take place. In all seriousness, this is a question that the American father of the future must consider. Women in Fight For Living ; Wage Do many of us realize that the most of us have to get along on a very few dollars a week? That the odd pennies we spend in the course ot a week would support some families? Recently there have been lists published of men in various cities receiving more than fifty thousand dollars a year in come. I'he number of these men are fewer than popularly sup posed. Yet any one who has passed the street after street of ex pensive homes in this city ami viewed the hundrds of costly apartments, is bound to marvel where all the money comes from. I nfortunateh these same eyes do not see the thousands who consider themselves lucky to have a cot to sleep on. A recent report from certain factories in Kansas City shows that 879 women there are paid between six and seven dollars a week, ami 670 between five and six. Os the total number 69 per cent are paid less than nine dollars a week, and that sum is set as a living wage in Kansas City. I wenty per eent of the men receive less than ten dollars a week, and most of them have families of five or more. Hen is a forcible argument for a deduction in the cost of living. Politics Really Begins at Home Amid all the tumult of battle, the blare of trumpets and the groans of the dying in the present campaign, let not the cit izen. our old friend Common People, forget that the vital ques lion before him is the cost of living. Liars come and go. Train-end speeches vanish like yesterday's dew. Campaign promises arc made to be broken by many who are seeking place and power. But the price of beefsteak, ham and eggs, bread and butler ami coffee and jam remains with us forever. It will be small comfort two years hence to Mr. Citizen if he elects all the shining lights of the land ami pays •>() per cent more for his roast beef and socks. Ii will he no excuse that he acted from the most patriotic motives. What every man should do is to stud) how. bv this election now pending, he can bring down the cost of his table 50 per eent. and the cost of his family's clothing 50 per eent. Let Mr. Common People cheer less and stud) this question more, and the problem of the high cost of living will be on the way toward solution. Army Correspondence Avaunt. < hesterfieldian phrase and ancient language of cir cumlocution ! The old ord<T changeth, and no more will the of ficers of our arm) be obligi-d to •'present their compliments to Colonei X nor sign themselves We have the honor to he. yours with great respect." General Wood has put his military foot on the George the Third forms which until ntly cumbered official correspond- ence. Hereafter Colonel X will begin his letters with a plain American "Sir," sax what he has to say and sign his name. When Major A. sitting across the table from Major B. wishes to communicate with him. In will not be forced to in dite a four-page epistle when a few spoken words would ac complish the desired result. The American business man has the right idea; nothing is | ■amen h) verbiage. Directness in writing is as valuable as di- ’ ' '""' s 1,1 'l’';ikuig. The man who expresses an idea in the 1 "vest words usually expresses it b- ' The Atlanta Georgian I I he Prowling Mountain Armies of Europe Secret 7 raining of Troops Countries Bordering on the Alps TROOPS RESTING fN AN ALPINE PASS BEFORE ATTEMPT- A PERILOUS CLIMB UP A MOUN ING A DANGEROUS DECLIVITY. TAIN SIDE. ; if \ \ \ 1 I ■ I Jml ■ a J 6A J - .. PASSING THROUGH A NARROW DEFILE I*' MOUNTAIN ARTILLEP.Y MOVING ITS GUNS BY HEAVY MARCHING ORDER. MULE TRAIN. By GARRETT P SERVISS I’ I'' our country were divided, and the Pacific Slope form, d a scp- , arate nation., the Rocky Moun- i tains and the Sierras would bristle with forts; public access to many . parts of the mountains would lie ! strictly forbidden, and strong mili tary forces would be continually on guard in the passes. both high and low. Moreover, these soldiers would be specially trained forth. i ■ work. At least once every year tie , e I would be great, spectacular maneu vers by the troops in th. moun tains, the secret purpose () f which would be kept from public knowl edge. These statements of what would happen in America if the I’nited States were not one continuous na tion. extending from ocean to ocean, and controlling both slopes of its mountain chains, are based upon what actually does happen in yyu st ern Europt. where the Alps arc a Jingo barrier over yy hose snoyy v summits run the dividing lints be tween four poyverful nations. Erance. Italy. Germany and Ac - trla. while a fifth. Switzerland, sits enthroned in their heart. One Grand Gibraltar. He yy ho only knows the Alps as the ordinary tourist knows them, would never guess tli.it ’tin y one grand Gibraltar, held by live separate powers. which may at any moment, become active enemies, and that if he should wamlet far from th«> beaten and ixrmitted . tracks he would sudd mly tind him self a prisoner, mt suspicion of i ; being a spy . He yvill not be ](k< v A to see any of the forts, but he will see the sentinels, and he yvil b> .■’ wise to keep as far away from them .is possible, unless he yy-jshes to spetid his vacation in efforts to establish his identity as an intto cent abroad. The Alps ate fwn called the '•playground of Europe” but it is a playground yvith y< ry ; serious restrictions, as Sir M irtin ' t'onwny found out, to his cost, when, a feyv years ago. he undi r- . took to tramp over them from one ; end to the other These restrictions are particular ly in evid. nee on the lofty Un. t in- I y ning between Eramr and Italy. 4 There ea. it party ende. y..: s to , ■ plant a fortification which yvill look A <lo" n up. n that of th, other, or t.. J obtain a b. ter eonunand of some pass through the moiintni: Strong forces of troops, spe. mil. trained 'J. WKHXIA-DAV, SEPTEMBER 25, 1912. lor such work, ate continually at hand, and many of the officers: and soldiers pass ion t pei iods of time living aiming tin ,-nows and the precipices, with whose perils ami hardships they are as familiar as ,ir.' the famous Swiss guides who lead ambitious tourists on trips up high peaks. Then, too. a< I have said, special main avers are legularly executed ilj ord. r still more to familiarize tlie m. n with wi at they would have to do in case war should break out. Large bodies ol troops (as shown in the aceonn a living photographs, which were taken during the latest evolutions of the French at my of me Alps) are led over the passes, up through the rocks, the glacit rs and the snow, dragging their guns atui conducting their mule trains, burdened with arms, ammunition and provisions. No mountain is too high or steep, no pass is too narrow or dangerous for ihtse soldiers. Some of them, through daily practice, would prob ably be able to give lessons in the art of mounte.im oring to most of tlie amateur or ; rofesstonal clitnb • r.< Who every y. ar (look to the per mitted parts of the Alps to test their nerve and their wind. I’ 11, gr” :t ss the hardships of sue'.) . lite 1,1,1 V Seem they are off s* ' I’’ e.iually great advantages. Mountain life is extremely health '"’v pur. , r.ir,. air expands the lungs. the constant » xerci«e strengthens th. muscles anil ’he At the Sign of the Clover By MINNA IRVING. \\ T P o( 'k'“t is empty, my heart is sore, ** \ml the stubborn work! *;oes wruntr. Ihni over th? stile and up the hill 1 follow the thrush's wng io a quiet nook in the grateful shade Ot an apple-tree gnarled and old. 'A e.sea of elover invites the bees In jackets of brown and gold. i . 're s a spring near by to slake my thirst. And gra*s for a fragrant bed. Ami the elover, cool with the morniim dew. For a pillow under my head; J 'I he scented blossoms refresh the soul O1 the wear} and sad earth-rover. Ami lo! there is never a cent to pay Al the sign of the crimson clover. > L. .... , _ „ . | froiiuent perils that have to be en countered impart, at the same time. Steady control of the nerves ami readiness of resource in moments of danger. The Alpine soldiers tire among the strongest, heartiest, healthiest and most intelligent any where to be seen. Many readers will recall how Professor John Tyndaii used to fly to the Alps as soon as his vacation began, to spend a month in perilous climbs, because that was the best and quickest way he knew to get lite fog of London out of his lungs, and, as he added, out of his brain. A Pleasing Feature. There is a pleasing feature of this army life in the Alps which is common to army life everywhere when actual fighting is not going on, but which becomes particular ly striking there, on account of the strange and grandiose surround ings, This is the fraternization which occasionally occurs between officers and soldiers from the two side lines. They sometimes invite one another to a peaceful meeting around a campfire, over a pot of soup, or a roast fowl, and talk of their exciting experiences among avalanches anti crevasses, while forgetting, for a moment, that one official word would make them, on the instant, deadly enemies. But not withstanding such incidents, tlie I watch that is kept along the mili tary dead lines that traverse the ! peaks and glaciers anil hidden val leys of the Alps is as vigilant as in actual war time. — WINIFRED BLACit Writes on A Bride and Groom r. M •? The Problems of Married Life and the Way Some Folks Meet Them Simply and Happily By XVINIEREI) BLACK. y; t’ESTERDAY I saw a wedding. Y Such a simple wedding it was —no fuss and feathers about it at all. The bride wasn't even a beauty, and the groom looked as if he worked for a living—and worked hard at that. The bride’s mother was a little withered old woman in a gray cloak she must have brought over when she first came to this great coun try and she wore the bonnet that went with it, too. gray with an old-fashioned wreath of damask rosj s in tlie underfacing. Dear me, how they would laugh at that bon net and those faded roses on Fifth avenue! And the groom's father! What a giant of a man, and what a fire burned in his blue eyes, eyes that had watched the night fall a thou sand times on tlie tossing seas, or there is no such thing as a sailor's eye. And the aunts of both sides of the family, funny, old-fashioned women. One of them cried from the minute she entered the church til! the little group at the altar faded out into the dusk of the fall day, cried delicately and in a most refined, lady-like manner, as one cries who does it from duty and a sense of what is done in tlie best circles. And little Hughey and little Ma ry Ann—l hoard their names, but I should ha.’i- known them any way. What ;i starched frock was Mary \nns. and what a huge tie of bright blue was Hughey's! And the baby, too. Oh. yes. one of the aunts had a baby, as ros.v as a ,pink rambler, and as blue-eyed as grandfather. Such a good baby, too; not a whimper all during the long service. "Hail, Alary, full of Grace," the beautiful old prayer whispered through the little chapel, and every pair of eyes turned to the little shrine outside in the autumn tlood of yellow sunshine. "The Lord is with thee,” and the flieki ring light caught the tendrils of a belated vine that clung to the shrine like a bit of cloud of glory. "Diessed ai t thou among women,” the old sailor prayed, too. He held his beads in the hollow of his great hand. How many times had he said them I wondered when tlie tempest shrieked around him. "Pt iv for us sinners now,” the old mother prayed aloud, her eyes full of hope and of anguish. The young bride at the altar looked like a sweet flower sway ing on its stem, and the tall lad beside her could scarcely keep his countenance for the joy of it all Poor folk these, simple folk, igno rant, too. I suppose. I don’t b< lieve the girl at the altar ever even heard of eugenics, and she'd blush her self half to death if some of the modern teachers should try to tell her. even in private, the things they bawl from every lecture desk these days. The Iml at her side, why, he’d knock a man down who tried to ex plain to her what it is they talk about at the fashionable clubs so much. Poor, ignorant things, they wouldn't know what you meant if you asked them about the “econo mic conditions" under which they were jna frying. "Economic condi tions: They never even thought of them. John loved Mary, and Maty said yrs, and that was all there was to it. They do not ask Why He Is For Wilson r, »• r, ifi'viii ol the X ale Law School (Taft's Own ['niver sity) (Jives His Reasons. By HENRY WADE ROGERS. I SHALL vote for Woodrow Wil son for president for these rea sons: To punish the Republican party as th- representative of the mercenary interests that have preyed upon the people for a generation, and to punish it for the sins of Rig Rusi ness in partn. rship with crooked politics. Because the policies of the Re publican party tend to make the rich richer and the poor poorer, hos ■ policies widen the gulf be tween the rich and poor. The cry mg ma d today confronting all civ ilized states j s tl) narrow the too wide gulf between those who are I *"‘ *‘‘2' 'Vi 1 !hose " hl > are too poor. The Republican party in re ■ nt > ears and after accomplish ing the abolition of slavery has shown a singular indifference to the 1 lime injunction to consider the poor. lat.iuse Woodrow Wilson pos s tne energy, the ability, the oiiraye. the independence, the re- Siae- for the constitution and laws which are so necessary if one is to . th. hign office of president of til- I nite. States. 1 b, li. v, that hi< persihial quali tu » are such that he wili be more THE HOME PAPER what your wages are when \„ u want to get married In the old church. I wonder what < a | arv Adam got when he told Eve h r eyes were like lakes of blue and he r lips were like a thread of pom( . grana te. And sweet, and sweet th. mu<dc thrilled through the little ehapei no specially fine voices, n o hired’ singers, just plain everyday frie, !ds "f the bride and groom, who «<re proud to be in the choir ~n their wedding day. The beautiful old eeremonv was over, the girl was a wife, the old mother had lost her baby daughter and the old sailor’s blue eves were full of dreams. The sun was setting across the canyon, some belated cowboy hal loed to his little bunch of home going cattle. There was laughing’ and crying, and joking, and smiling I’' J'’ 0 door ' T he old priest who had baptized the bride warned the b. degroom, with a twinkle, rha Mary had the O’Donm-l t „ n , p sometimes,” and the bridegroom "ho was baptized by the old •om laughed and took his ehan.es’ and down the walk of the little chuichjard they went, the wedding Party, as happy as the birds thit ■nate i„ the sprlng an( , |ny and all that was in it went with them, Be a good g|r) Mary . I)e be clever, be trije, be patient. buL above till and beyond all. be loving for love can forgive all else but the cardinal sin of unlove. Be true, John. Oh! be true to the git! you’ve taken and whose feet you have set beside yours in the path you walk so gayly now. I here s trouble coming, slekness suffering. poverty, self-sacrifice' rhe little girl there won't always look as she does today. Her eyes won't always be so bright, her step will falter sometimes and so will her temper. She ] f k cs her potato( , s baked and you prefer yours boiled Oh! there are lots of things for you to talk about and agree upon. Be tired, he ill. be a failure, be a Success, be clever, be stupid, but, oh, :| John, be true, be true, that is all that matters, all that really counts with the likes of Mary or any true woman. Mary, Mary, you hold a man's heart in the hollow of your little hand. Don't let anything make you forget that. Nothing else natters or will matter as long as you both shall live if you only keep on loving each other and be true. "For better, for worse''—oh, yes, there's worse iff it; "for richer, for poorer,” just think, Mary. John may make as high as twenty-five a week some day. Shall you grow purse-proud then, little Mary, anil | will you turn away the old friend that comes to you for help'.’ Don't do it. Mary—it doesn't pay. | It never pays to harden the heart— never, never. For, whisper. Mary, I'll tell you a secret on your wed- 1 ding day. Keep your heart, soft, keep your heart kind, keep your heart gene rous, keep your heart young, and not all the years that will silver that brown hair of yours can make I you anything but divinely young. i Bless your little heart. Mary, and I joy go with you, John. I'm glad I you never even thought of mar- | riage as a "problem." It isn't one I whim love stands at the door of I your own little house to bld you I welcome home. | How simple all these problems I we hear so much talk of these days 1 are when we meet them simply! successful in getting things done than Roosevelt or Taft. Roosevelt certainly was not successful in get ting his measures through con gress. He was too mandatory and belligerent. He was too abrupt ano Irritating in his way of doing things. Mr. Taft has been much more successful than Roosevelt in deal ing with congress, yet in the mos impotrant of all matters ben? congress, that of the tariff * could not win congress to reVl ' the tariff downward according his own and his party's promise. There is no office in which P* sonality counts for more man the presidency, and Woodr y y son has the right personality concede the charm of " r m personality. He has all the cha McKinley had and more, president needs to have, in a . tion to his charm, great and personal tact and a res< Will and determined purpose. Mr. Taft is a fine type man. and 1 believe him th misrepresented and least _ lin g nt stood man in our publh 1 .... it is not within his power P compiish the reforms who 1 ;• necessary to the welfare American people at this tlm .