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EDITORIAL PAGE THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN I 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. 1873. Subscription Price—Delivered by carrier. 10 cents a week. By mail, $5.00 a year. Payable In advance. Delayed Weddings and the Money Question Il seems a strange thing that with all the varied discus sion 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 these delayed mar riages are nine tunes 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 aigl 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 Kight 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 of 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- i come. The 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 and viewed the hundrds of costly apartments, is bound to marvel where all the money comes from. rnfortunately 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 ('it\ shows that 579 women there are paid between six and seven dollars a week, and 670 between tive 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. Twenty per cent of the men receive less than ten dollars a week, and most of them have families of tive or more Here 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 I’.cople. forget that the vital ques tion before him is the cost of living. Liars come and go. Train-end speeches vanish like yesterday’s dew. Campaign promises are made to be broken by many who are seeking place and power. But the price of beefsteak, ham and eggs, bread and butter and coffee and .jam remains with us forever. It will be small comfort two years lienee to Mr. Citizen if he elects all the shining lights of the land and pays 50 per cent more for his roast beef and socks. It will be no excuse that he acted from the most patriotic motives. What every man should do is to study how. by this election now pending, he can bring down the cost of his table 50 per cent, and the cost of his family’s clothing >0 p< r cent. Let Mr. Common People cheer less and study this question more, and the problem of tin* high cost of living will be on the wa\ toward solution Army Correspondence Avaunt. ( hesterfieidian phrase ami ancient language of cir cumlocution! Ihe old order ehangeth. and no more will the of ficers nt our army he obliged to ' present their compliments to Colonel X nor siyrn themselves "We have the honor to be. iours with great respect General Wood has put his military foot on the George the Third forms which until recently cumbered official correspond en< • Hereafter Colonel X will begin his letters with a plain Aim i lean Str. say what he has to say and sign his name When Major A. sitting across the table from Major B. wishes to communicate with him. he will not be forced to in dite a foyr-page epistle when a few spoken words would ac roinpiish the desired result. 1 ,lp American business man has the right idea: nothing is I ess in writing is as valu in speaking The man who . xpn -sc an idea in th " C’Wch words usually expresses it best. The Atlanta Georgian I he Prowling Mountain Armies of Europe Secret Training oj Troops by the Countries Hordering on the Alps • TROOPS RESTING IN AN ALPINE PASS BEFORE ATTEMPT- A PERILOUS CLIMB UP A MOUN ING A DANGEROUS DECLIVITY. TAIN SIDE. <X— 0. ■MBr ' 'A- 5 < — if- —> A i PASSING THROUGH A NARROW DEFILE IN MOUNTAIN ARTILLERY MOVING ITS GUNS BY HEAVY MARCHING ORDER. MULE TRAIN. ' By GARRETT P SERVISS. IK our country were divided. and the Pacific Slupe formed a arate nation, the Rocky Moun tains anil the Sierras would bristle with torts; public access Co many j parts of the mountains would be. ! strictly forbidden, and strong' mili tary forces would be continually on guatd in the passes, both high and low. Moreover. these soldiers would be specially trained for their work. At least once every year there would be great, spectacular maneu vers by the troops in the moun tains. the secret purpose of which would be kept from publit knowl edge'. These statements of what would happen in America if the t’nited States were not one continuous na tion. extending from ocean to ocean, and controlling both slopes of its mountain chains, arc based upon what actually does happen in west ern Europe, where the Alps are a huge barrier, over whose snowy summits run the dividing lines be tween four powerful nations. France. Italy. Germany and Aus tria. while a fifth. Switzerland, sits enthroned In their heart. One Grand Gibraltar. He who only knows the Alps as the ordinary tourist knows them, would never guess that they ate one grand Gibraltar, held by five separate powers, which may. at any moment, become active enemies, and that if he should wander far from the beaten and permitted tracks he would suddenly find him self a prisoner, on suspicion of being a spy He will not be likely to see any of the forts, but he will sei the sentinels, and he will be wise to keep as far away from them as possible, unless he wishes to spend his vacation in efforts to establish his identity as an inno cent abroad The Alps are often called the "playground of Europe " but it is a playground with very sei lons restrictions, as Sir Martin l onway found out. to his cost when, a few years ago. heVinder took to tramp over them from one • •nd to the other Tltesi i e~t riot ions ate particular ly in evidence on the lofty line run ning between Frame and Italy. Their each party endeavors to plant a fortification which will look down upon that of the other, m to obtain a better command of some j pa • through tie- mountain Strong • lottce of trvopc, cpeuaiiy trained WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1912. for such work, are continually at hand, and many of the officers and soldiers pass long periods of time living among the snows and the precipices, with whose perils and hardships they are as familiar as are . the famous Swiss guides who | lead ambitious tourists on trips up high peaks. Then. too. as I have said, special maneuvers are regularly executed in order still more to familiarize the men with what they would have to do in case war should break out. Large bodies of troops (as shown in the accompanying photographs, which were taken during the latest evolutions of the French army of the Alps! are led over the passes, up through the rocks, the glaciers and the snow, dragging their guns and conducting their mule trains, burdened witli aims, ammunition and provisions. No mountain is too higli or steep, no pass is too narrow or dangerous Im' these soldiers. Some of them, thiougii daily practice, would prob ably be able to give lessons in the art of mountaineel Ing to most of the amateur or professional climb ers who every year flock to the per mitted parts of the Alps to test their nerve and their wind. But. great as the hardships of such a life may seem, they are off set by equally great advantages. Mountain life is extremely health ful. The pure, rare air expands the lungs. the constant exercise strengthens the muscles and the ~ 3 At the Sign of the Clover By MINNA IRVING. XI 7 HEN my pocket is empty, my heart is sore, ’V And the stubborn world goes wrong. Then over the stde and up the hill I follow the thrush’s song To a quiet nook in the grateful shade Os an apple-tree gnarled ami old. Where a sea of elover invites the bees In jackets of brown and gold. j > There's a spring near by to slake my thirst. Ami grass for a fragrant bed (And the clover, cool with the morning dew, for a pillow under my head: Ihe scented blossoms refresh the soul ot the weary and sad earth-rover, And Io! there is never a cent to pay— At the sign of the crimson elover < —_ j frequent perils that have to be en countered impart, at the same time, steady control of the nerves and readiness of resource in moments of danger. The Alpine soldiers are among the strongest, heartiest, healthiest and most intelligent any where to be seen. Many readers will recall how Professor John Tyndall 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 the 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 st l iking there, on account of the strange and grandiose surround ings. This is the fraternization which occasionally occurs between officers and soldiers front the two side lines. They sometimes invite one another to a peaceful meeting around a campfire, over a pot of soup, or a roast sow l, and talk of their exciting experiences among avalanches and crevasses, while forgetting, for a moment, that one official word would make them, on the instant, deadly enemies. But notwithstanding such incidents, the watch that is kept along the mili tary dead lines that traverse tlte peaks and glaciers and hidden val leys of the Alps is as vigilant as in actual war time. THE HOME PAPE R WINIFRED BLACK Writes on A Bride and Groom The Problems of Married Life and the Way Some Folks Meet Them Simply and Happily By WINTER ED BLACK. < rKSTERDAY 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 v Oman 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 roses in the underfacing. Dear me, how they would iaugh at that bon net and those faded roses on F’ifth 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 the tossing seas, or there is no such thing as a sailor’s And the aunts of both sides of the family, funny, old-fashioned women. One of them ci-ied from the minute she entered the church till 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 the best circles. And little Hughey and little Ma ry Ann—l heard their names, but I should have known them any way. What a starched frock was Mary Ann's, 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 rosy as a pink rambler, and as blue-eyed as grandfather. Such a good baby, too; not a whimper all during the long service. "Hail, Mary, 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 flood of yellow sunshine. "The Lord is with thee," and the flickering light caught the tendrils of a belated vine that clung to the shrine like a bit of cloud of glory. • "Blessed art 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 1 wondered when the • tempest shrieked around him. "Pray 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. 1 suppose. I don't believe 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 tr 1 to tel! her. even in private, th- things they bawl from every lecture desk these days. The lad 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 marrying. "Economic condi tions!” -They, never even thought of them. John loved Maty, and Mary said yes, and that was all there was to it. They do not ask Why He Is For Wilson » ». •( Dean of the Yale Law School (Taft’s Own Univer sity) (lives His Reasons. By HENRY WADE ROGERS. I SHALL vote for Woodrow Wil son for president for these rea- I sons: > Io punish tlie Republican party as the representative of the mercenary ! interests that have preyed upon the people for a generation, and to I punish it for tlie sins of Big Busi > nesa in partnership with crooked politics. Because the policies of the Re publican partv tend to make the ■ ’’n'iteyr and the poor poorer. I hose policies widen the gulf be . tween tlie rich ami poor. The cry ’ ing need today confronting all civ- ' i’ized states is to naimu the too- " ide gulf between those who are > too rich and those who are too poor. The Republican party in re- } cent years, and after accomplish ing the abolition of slavery has show n a singular indifference’ to tile divine injunction to consider the ( poor. Because Woodrow Wilson pos sesses the energy, the ability, the i courage, the independence, the re- S ’’l"?’ r,,r ” l<? '■""’‘l'lutit'ii ami laws < which are «>o necessary if one i: to { till the high office of’ president ~r ■ the t cited State- I believe i| ia t hi pci onai quali ties are such that he will be more what your wages are when - want to get married in the r ,ia church. I wonder what , a i an . Adam got when he told Eve her eyes were like lakes of blue and her lips were like a tirread of p., me . granate. And sweet, and sweet the thrilled through the little chanel no specially fine voices, no hirpri ' singers, just plain everyday friends of tlie bride and groom, w-ho «,. re proud to be in the choir on their wedding day. The beautiful old ceretnonv WM . over, the girl was a wife, the old mother had lost her baby daughter and the old sailor's blue eves «er. full of dreams. The sun was setting across th» canyon, some belated cowboy hal loed to his little bunch of home' ' going cattle. There laughing and crying, and joking, and ,-miliJ at the door. The old pries: ■■ had baptized the bride warned th. br degroom with a twinkle, that Mary had the O’Donnel ten,n ( . r •sometimes.” and the bridegroom "ho was baptized by the old pij es( ' too. laughed and took his eham A and down the walk of the iit tip churchyard they went, the wedding party, as happy as the birds that mate tn the spring, and my heart and all that was in it went with them. Be a good girl. Mary: be earnest be clever, be true, be patient, hut’ above all and beyond all. be loving' for love can forgive all else but the cardinal sin of unlove. Re true, John. Oh! be true to the girl you've taken and whose f eet you have set beside yours in the path you walk so gayly now. There's trouble coming, sickness, suffering, poverty, self-sacrifice The little girl there won't always look as she does today. Her eyes won’t always be s 9 bright, her step will falter sometimes and so will her temper. She likes her potatoes baked and you prefer yours boiled. Oh! there are lots of things for you to talk about and agree upon Be tired, be ill, be a failure, be. 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 matters 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 in 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, and will yem 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 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 you anything but divinely young. . Bless your little heart, Mary, and joy go with you, John. I’m glad you never even thought of mar riage as a “problem.” It isn't one when love stands at the door of your own little house to bid you welcome home. How simple all these problems we hear so much talk of these days are when we meet them simply! successful in getting things <ion» 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 an” irritating in his way of doing things. Mr. Taft has been much more successful than Roosevelt 11 <iei Y ing with congress, yet in the ntos’ impotrant of all matters be fo ’’* congress, that of the tariff, n could not win congress to reV “t the tariff downward according his own and his party’s promise. There ts no office in wHI i per sonality counts for more the presidency, and Woodrow ' j son has the right persons’ V concede the charm of Mr ‘ a personality. He has all the c>ta > McKinley had and more. b ’L ( . president needs to hav* 111 a ’~,i tion to his charm, great po-H <- and personal tact and a r ’' will and determined purpose Mr. Taft is a fthe type nf v man, and I believe him 1 ’ misrepresented and least 11 iJt stood man in our publie ■ e. _ it is not within his poacr eotiti rli the reform? " ’’ ' necessary to the wrlfa • <-f American people at this tune-