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■rilE ATLANTA GEORGIAN
Published Even- ifternooi. Except Fund ay
By THE GEORGIAN COMPANY
■ At 20 East Alabama St., Atlanta. Ga.
as second-class matter i po-v <T eat Atlanta, under act of March S. Is7>
Price—Delivered by co- er. 10 cents a week. By mail. $5 00 a year
Payable In advance.
■A’ilsor’s Serene and Sober
■ Democracy
Governor V\ ilson savs he does not care to sit up all night on the
ot November to follow the tragmenlary returns. H«* would pre-
go to bed—and read the papers in the morning.
Here is a significant point in the character of the Democratic
candidate. Whether he stays up to watch the ticker or not. his
friends will testify that he is not over-anxious. He does not strain
himself to be president. He is the least concerned of all the candi
dates.
This fact has an important bearing upon the quality of
Wilson's democracy. His eagerness for the power that other men
can bestow upon him is cheeked by his knowledge that a man's
greatest power is never given or taken away by majority vote.
He is the kind of a Democrat that would rather rule a cabin made
by himself than a kingdom that others have made for him. His
democracy is of the old stock. lie hates arbitrary and adventitious
power. *
Such power as he now possesses hi* has won by absorbing him
self in his own proper work. He can win more in the same way—
whatever happens on election day. He will never he out of a job.
However, there is no doubt that Wilson will he elevated, and
there is no doubt that he will plunge with enthusiasm into the work
of the presidency. Only the presidency must come to him as a
sequence to what he has always been doing, and as a thing in the
course of nature.
Wilson's democracy has the serenity of the old Virginia type
—of Jrffersorf. Madison and Monroe. He is on their line. But he
has traveled with the age.
Wilson is by all odds the most progressive man in the presi
dential lists, because he understands—as none of the rest do—that
the energy of modern polities is in the organization of the working
world. He knows that the way to make private business more pub
[Jic in its aim and operation is to make public business more per
sonal. more matter-of-fact and businesslike.
He sweeps away the superstition that private affairs and public
affairs can be conducted on different moral planes. Since he per
ceives that it is impossible Io maintain a higher moral standard in
public life than obtains in average industry and trade, he insists
that both standards must rise together. He is not going to knock
the brains out of big business; on the contrary, he is trying to pul
brains into big business.
He is a terror to the bosses because he refuses to be one. They
fear him by instinct; but the whole measure of his menace to them
they—simple souls!—do not yet fully comprehend. Wilson under
stands. of course, that bosses live on the corruption of commercial
ism. He will abolish the bosses by abolishing the corruption.
Seeing that a feverish politics—swinging a big stick—can not
allay the fever of bad business. Wilson would restore the health
of economics and the health of polities by reviving the spirit of free
; initiative and local self-government—i. e„ the Democratic spirit.
He would strengthen the structure of government from hot
tom to top—beginning with the foundations, where the people live.
A vote for Wilson is a vote for a cool-headed captain, who is
particular about his chart, his compass and his port. He is a bold
sailor, hut he is prudent. And he is imperturbable in storms.
> These are stormy times in Europe, m Asia and elsewhere.
:s*'W.s of the disasters to Turkey brings the great powers of Europe
to tn? verge of a wide vortex of war. Within the next four years
Europe i likely to exhaust its economic strength in devastating
military campaigns. A reaction toward militarism and absolutism
in Europe will leav< the Great American republic standing where it
stood a century ago—the only competent and conspicuous eham-
, pion of political freedom and industrial efficiency.
L Under such circumstances the United States may. within this
achieve an earth-gripping power, a mastery of material
Orings, so sane and irresistible that it can dictate the peace of the
and impose the methods of its own prosperity upon tin* he
..■PPuevd peoples of Europe.
r That is the kind of role that the great Democrats have always
meant to play. It is the kind of thing Wilson cares about. He
would organize Hu* creative forces of the United States so that its
science and industry should he more terrible to despotism than
any "army with banners." .
This is a great day for the trying-out of free government.
It is a day to sit tight in the saddle of Democracy.
Wilson sits tight.
Dress Reform for Men
A German society for “the reform of male apparel" proposes
r, to do away with the many garments with which man adorns himself.
Collars, shirts, waistcoata and hats are the more important ele
ments of garb that will disappear if the society's program is carried
out. In their place will come a blouse or smock, knee breeches and
bare heads.
All of which is well enough But when the tinal article of
progress is considered we find in it the seed id' dissolution and
death.
The society plans that every man shall design his own clothes;
that he shall select its fabric and cut. ornamentation and color.
There shall be no tailors in the land to dominate the styles, for there
shall be no styles under the society 's rule.
By this radical innovation the entire good program is spoiled.
There is not a man among us but would gladly banish collar but
tons and suspenders, starched shirts and high collars But, where
is the man bold enough or brave enough to design his own clothes,
who will spend the day in shopping for materials, or an afternoon
matching up buttons or braid '!
bll may bethat man will discard long trousers and give them to
women folks to wear instead of the hobble skirt, but lucre man
Ijro back to the breech clout rather than become his own dress-
The Atlanta Georgian
The Price He Paid
Drawn By HAL COFFMAN.
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THE OLD MAN Gimme a whisky.
THE BARTENDER Where’s the price?
In real life the Old Man slinks out of the saloon, and the young men drinking there laugh
at him. What the Old Man should say is this:
"I have spent my youth. I have spent my reputation, I have spent my prospects for whisky.
I have spent everything I ever had. Haven’t I paid the price?’’
Then the young men might think. ,
Writing Love Letters & &
A CINCINNATI professor advo
cates teaching the apt of
writing love letters as a part
of the public school curriculum. He
thinks that tike exchange of billet
doux between the pupils would con
stitute an excellent method of
teaching literature.
Well, did you ever! What makes
this gentleman, who must be highly
educated, suppose that love letters
are literature? They aren’t. They
are plain, unmitigated slush. If
two great poet? like Elizabeth and
Robert Browning simply went to
pieces and became maudlin when
they wrote love letters to each
other, what, in heaven’s name,
would happen when Mamie of the
seventh grade and Tommy of the
eighth grade tried to put their pal
pitating heart throbs on paper?
Ought To Be Taught.
Go to. Professor, you are old
enough to know better than to want
to encourage such folly. The only
love letters that have ever been
written in the whole hrStory of the
world that any of us can read
without a feeling of deadly nausea
coming over us are those effusions
that have been addressed Individ
ually to ourselves. And goodness
knows the? weren't literature!
The only possible justification for
introducing a course of love-letter
writing into the public schools
would be to impress on children in
their early, formative years not to
write love letters at all under any
circumstances or provocation. The
danger of It might be taught along
with the danger of drink, and thus
prove of untold value to the rising
generation.
Little boys in knickerbockers
might have it drilled Into their in
ner consciousness that they must
never, never write letters in which
they would describe themselves as
some 'female’s ducky daddle," or
“popsy-wopsy,” and tell how many
million, billion kisses they inclosed
in the envelope, or how many years
and years it seemed since they saw
their "lamble-love,” or words to
that effect.
Thereby would these little boys
when they grew to manhood and
became trust magnates save them
selves from breach of promise suits
and from hearing the ribald laugh
ter with which a cold and cruel
world greets the love letters of a
rit h old man to a chorus girl, when
they att read in court. \lso the
boy who has been taught in school
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 1. 1912.
Bv DOROTHY DIX.
to regard a love letter as the ad
| der that biteth and the serpent
that stingeth. or atty other peril
along the pathway of life, will be
preserved from leaving carelessly
I
in his coat pocket one of those vio
let scented, pink tinted missives
that wives go sleuthing for, and j
Q jMKOpllk I
W A
■/ At
DOROTHY DIX
that have resulted in Reno becom
ing such a favorite resort with
ladies.
The writing of love letters, how
ever. is a feminine and not a mas
culine vice, and if the public
schools, beginning with girls in the
kindergarten, could inoculate them
with a sufficient horror of commit
ting this supreme folly to prevent
them from doing it, then, indeed
would a great reform have been
accomplished. To teach a girl how
not to write a love letter would do
her more good than to make her
mistress of all the arts and
sciences.
Foolish Women.
The mania that women, and es
pecially young girls, have for in
criminating themselves on paper is
one of the things that nobody can
explain. They don’t even know why
they do It themselves. But set a
woman down at a writing desk
with plenty of good white paper
before her, aud a pen that doesn't
scratch, and a man to write to,
and she goes on a kind of ink jag.
and writes things that she never
Intended to, that she doesn’t mean,
and that she blushes to remember
the longest day she lives.
The most woman, the
shyest and most reserved, the worn-
■ an who wouldn't think of telling a
man she loved him if she was face
to face with him, will write him the
most sickening love letters. And
she'll pour forth all of these mushy
expressions, and put down in black
and white all of this die-away af
fection. not because she is con
sumed with an overwhelming pas
sion for him. but because she thinks
it sounds grand, and poetical, and
romantic.
If any course of study could
make girls see what folly it is to
write such letters, how they cheap
en themselves in a man's eyes by
doing it. and how idiotic and ridic
ulous these poor little missives
seem to other people, let us not
only introduce it into the public
schools, and every other school and
college In the land, but make it a
compulsory course at that.
An Old Story.
It would save a lot of paper and
ink. and future tears, if Mamie in
her school days could hear the silly
gush she has indicted to Tommy
read aloud by the teacher, and have
its wash? poetry and mixed meta
phors kindly but effectually dis
sected. Take it from me that Ma
mie's hankering for writing love
letters and slopping over a half a
quire of paper with burning words
of devotion, would be slain in that
moment, and that when she was a
grown woman her communications
with all young men would be by
word of mouth or a picture postal
card.
She w ould be like that admirable
heroine in one of Rhoda Brough
ton's novels who was a great flirt,
but who was wont to boast that,
no matter what she might have told
a man. she thanked God that there
was not one scrap of handwriting
in the length and breadth of Eng
land.
There is an old story about a lit
tle boy who wrote an essay about
pins, in w Meh he declared that pins
h‘ad saved millions of lives by not
being swallowed.
If the Cincinnati professor s the
ory of introducing the writing of
love letters into the public schools
can be guaranteed to work in the
same way it will be a long step
toward the higher education, par
ticularly of women. Otherwise It
will merci? confirm fools in their
foil? Ami the? are plent? foolish
as they are.
THE HOME PAPER
WINIFRED BLACK
Writes on
Modern Woman and
Economic Conditions
The Last, She Says, Is a Most
Convenient Phrase and Is Likely
to Mean Most Anything---Even
Wages That Some Folks Can’t
Get.
DR. HENRY MEADE, nerve
specialist and scientist in
general, says that the new
kind of American girl is fine for the
men, but the worst sort of thing for
the children.
“The clever, brilliant, self-suffi
cient, independent girl of today is
making over the men,” says Dr.
Meade. "Men aren’t the boyish
animals they were a generation
ago. They can’t be and keep up
with women. But where are the
children coming in? These clever
women don’t want to stop being
clever to have children until they
are about 35, and then it is too
late.”
A Convenient Phrase.
All over the land indignant "mod
ern women” are rising to deny,
with sound and fury, the impeach
ment he has made of them, and in
the nine hundred and ninety-nine
replies I have read the one real
thing the clever women say is—
"economic conditions."
“Economic conditions!” Where
have I heard that phrase before?
Oh, yes! It’s what they say when
they want to tell why a woman
kills her husband and runs away
with another man. It’s the phrase
they use when they explain why a
man robs the man who pays him a
salary. It’s jvhat they say now
adays when a little girl tells her
mother to mind her own business
and she’ll mind hers.
“Economic conditions!" What a
convenient phrase it is, to be sure!
I wish I was quite positive that I
know Just exactly what it means.
It can’t be that it is just the wages
that people get—can it?
I wonder just how much wages
have to do with the "no children
at our flat" fad just now? Not so
very much, in my opinion—not half
so much as some people seem to
think.
You can’t stamp out a great
primal instinct with a mere matter
of wages. As a matter of fact, the
poorer people are the more children
they have.
Mary Is Lonesome.
I was talking with the finest old
lady I know about it this very day,
and she said:
"Well, I used to think the woman
who didn’t want children was un
natural, but I’ve been visiting round
among my daughters and sons and
I feel different about it.
"There’s Alary, John’s wife, the
sweetest girl I know —or was when
she married my son John four years
ago. What Mary is now is a lone
some, neglected woman, with a
mouth turned down at the corners
and a disposition turned down all
around. I don’t wonder at it—l
A Ballade of Fate
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
THERE was a man who died too young—
A handsome fellow, rich and gay
Loved by the men he walked among,
Ever a winner, fight or play.
They put him in the ground today
While crying comrades stood apart;
They did not know and could not say.
The Master has it on His chart.
There is a man forlorn, unstrung.
Hopeless and homeless, bent and gray;
Who. when the sparrow’s song is sung,
Leaves the park bench and rimps away.
Dreaming, perchance, of some old May
That makes a tear unwelcome start.
His course through life he can not stay;
The Master has it on His chart.
There was a girl by sorrow stung—*
A girl who could not whisper nay.
She listened to a lying tongue
And has her little debt to pay.
What is the sentence? Tell me. pray—
You with your sharp and slanderous dart.
O'er Love and Life we hold no sway.
The Master has it On His chart.
ENVOY.
Kismet. O Kismet! Though we stray
I'ntil the ceasing of the heart,
Or join at once the vast array.
The Master has it on His chart.
By WINIFRED BLACK.
did till I visited her, but now I
don’t.
"Mary has two children, lovely
little things, and that’s all she has
got—that and a man to pay the
bills. She hasn’t any husband, not
what I call a husband, at all. John
belongs to three clubs, says Mary
is so busy with the children all the
time he has to have some com
pany, and he has It—at the club.
* "Mary’s little John had the croup
when I was there. and Mary and I
sat up with him till 4 o’clock. John
( came in about 11 from the club,
looked sorry for awhile and then
said he’d have to get some sleep, as
he had a big deal on the next day.
That deal wasn’t big enough to
keep him at home resting, I noticed
—just big enough to leave the lit
tle boy to us all night.
" ’What do you do, Mary, when I
am not here?" I asked, when little
John was breathing easier and
looked as if he’d drop off to sleep in
a minute or so.
“ ’Oh,’ said Mary, T fight tt out
alone.* Then I knew what made
her look so down tn the mouth all
the time.
"Fight It out alone! Most of the
new kind of mothers seem to do
that, and when I was young being
alone was considered a kind of
lonesome business—maybe it’s dif
ferent now.
Brought ’Em Up Together. a
“What’s the matter with mar
riage nowadays, anyhow? When I
married we expected to be together
—that’s what we married for. My
husband didn't go Somewhere else
for his fun; he took It home or
took me with him.
“Who would want to stay a-t
home with the children while hus
band goes out playing golf or beat
ing some one at some champion
ship billiard thing or other? It
takes two to bring up a family, or
it did in my day, and those two
have got to be close together alt the
time.
“I had eight children and my
husband and I brought ’em up to
gether. We hed our fun at home
■with the children, and every child
we had was that much more fun
for us all.
“If he’d been this new kind of
man that’s got to be 'amused* all
the time like some fretful’ baby I
wouldn’t have wanted any such
family as that, or any family at all.
"What do they want th®, women
to do—be the old-fashioned mother,
while they don't come within a
mile of being the old-fashioned fa
ther?"
I wonder if there’s any truth in
what the good old grandmother
said. There can’t be—there wasn’t
a word about "economic conditions"
. In her whole discourse.
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