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THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN
Published Every Afternoon 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 J. 18T>
Subscription Price—Delivered by carrier, 10 cents a week. By mail, 15.00 a year
Payable In advance.
iNUiSANCESTSmoke
and Smoke Boards
The smoke nuisance of Atlanta ami the smoke
board pf Atlanta should be abolished at one and the
same time.
That time is today.
It is hard to tell now which is the greater nui
sance, the smoke or the board.
There is a city ordinance against the smoke nui
sance. Offenders should be arraigned before Judge
Broyles. The cases against them are made by an ex
pert and Judge Broyles would treat them with the
same amount of consideration that he treats rich au
tomobile speeders.
That consideration is the same with which he treats
a pushcart peddler.
That plan didn’t suit the board, one of whose mem
bers operates a factory that stands among tin 1 first
smoke producers of the city. The board decided that
cases made by the expert m ust come before it and be
quashed, or else be sent before Judge Broyles.
The Georgian does not profess to say what indi
viduals should be fined. It does say, however, that if
the board effectually blocks the prosecution started by
Inspector M(‘Michael. I’he Georgian will hire its own
expert to make cases against the violators of the city
ordinance. It will also hire its own lawyers to prose
cute the offenders.
Another Periodical Blunder
of Taft
Nothing in President Taft’s recent history has so little be
come him ns his prediction of a panic in ease of Wilson’s elec
tion, because Wilson would reform the tariff.
This was a “stoop to conquer” unworthy of the president
of the United States.
/ Ts anything could produce a panic it would be the prophecy
of a panic by the head of the government.
Mr. Taft is forgetful, lie does not seem to remember that
he conducted his campaign and entered upon his administration
upon a promise to revise the tariff as distinct and definite as any
♦ hat Governor Wilson has made.
Again President Taft forgets when he asserts that the panic
of 1893 was due to the Cleveland-Wilson tariff. In 1907 Mr.
Taft, then secretary of war. ascribed the '93 panic to the free
silver scare.
Mr. Taft does not seem to remember that his own political
downfall distinctly dates from his Winona speech in which he
eulogized the objectionable Payne-Aldrich tariff as the best of
the quarter century.
Mr. Taft does not seem to remember that his political down
fall was accelerated, if not settled, by his arbitrary and foolish
veto of the intelligent reforms of the tariff made by the Demo
cratic majority of the house and by the senate.
Mr. Taft does not keep his ear to the ground, lie does not
hear the steads tramp of the people toward their own. If he did
hear it, it is doubtful if lie would understand the sound or know
what the people meant.
The president, who is an honest man. has forfeited the peo
ple’s confidence by his failure to understand them or to sympa
thize with their demands.
President last, who undoubtedly reads the newspapers, has
undoubtedly read Governor Wilson’s statement that he is “not
a free trader, nor anything that looks like a free trader.”
And the president must know that the reason why Wood
row Wilson's election has been assured for the last several
weeks is because the people believe in the sincerity of Woodrow
Wilson’s desire to revise the tariff on safe and discreet lines.
Corn Club Bovs Point the
Way to Prosperity
The corn club boys of Georgia are pointing the way to progress
and prosperity nowadays.
They are showing the farmers that it is absurd, and highly
unprofitable, to send away annually for $250,000,000 worth of food
supplies when those same supplies may be raised right here in
Georgia for many millions less.
Cotton is all right in its way—the world must have cotton, and
the South must produce it but corn raised at a profit of more than
SIOO per acre is a more nearly; certain way to wealth and independ
ence than cotton. And particularly than too much cotton!
A Georgia boy has raised corn this year, in average circum
stances. at a profit of more than SIOO per acre—and what a sixteen
year-old boy can do. grown men can do, AND OUGHT TO BE
ASHAMED NOT TO DO.
Because of the activities of the hoys corn clubs—and it is a
_ poor and backward community in Georgia nowadays that hasn't its
boys corn club the corn crop of the state this year has been in
creased more than $30,000,000.
It might, and eventually will be. increased to $100,000,000. and
more !
A few years ago. a number of corn clubs were organized in the
rural districts here ami there as a sort of experiment. The results
have been more than gratifying. The inevitable rivalry between
lhe chibs—healthy, and sensibly stimulating has been encouraged,
(.lorn shows have been held all over the state, and prizes have been
awarded where the work justified it.
The Atlanta Georgian believes one of the very finest influences
for good at work in Georgia today is the boys corn club.
I’he youngsters are teaching the old folks a valuable lesson—a
lesson that very many of them have needed to learn
The Atlanta Georgian
Here---and There
Drawn By HAL COFFMAN.
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Learning From the Puppy
By WINIFRED BLACK.
< I MIE old dog had gone out. 1
| wonder where it is he takes
to wandering of late.
Last night, when the moon was a
silver half up there in the turquoise
and silver skies, lie ran down the
little path to the gate, stopped a
minute, looked back at us a trifle,
as if he were conscience smitten,
flung up his grizzled old head and
was gone—out into the shadows of
the broad road that leads his dog
gish feet to what ga.v halls of ca
nine revelry who can guess? Is
there a particular cat he wants to
catch down there in the broad
road? Can it lie that he hears the
coyotes up on the brown hills bark
ing, barking, like fretful puppies,
every night just about moonrise?
Dog That Heard
Call of the Wild.
1 knew a good dog once, a staid,
respectable family dog. who went
West, with the family and ran away
and joined his wild brethren in the
hills
At first he played with them just
at dusk, ami ran out of the house at
early dawn to follow them. And
then he spent the whole night, then
the day. and finally he went away
with them altogether.
Only once in a while did he ap
pear—sitting on a distant hill—to
watch the children playing around
the bonfire at night, but when they
called him by his old name he
threw up his head, sniffed the air
an instant, turned tail and ran to
the wilds again.
Can it be that our old dog Is go
ing to go back to the caves? At
any rate, he left the puppy alone In
the house with one who sleeps early
in the evening and rises, it seems
to me, with the dawn.
Later in the evening I heard
something in the garden—a cat
most like.
"Come, boy," said 1 to the puppy,
"come, go out and see what's com
ing so close to your house.”
1 opened the door, but the puppy
looked wistfully up into my face.
“Oh." he seemed to try to say. "Oh,
I am so young, and what if it
should be a Hon or a bear?”
Rut 1. was Inexorable, and all at
once the puppy's good blood spoke;
he raised his foolish head and
piunged noiselessly toward'the soft
footsteps in the garden.
"Good boy," 1 said. "Good old
R.iff! s.' for his name is Raffles
since the very day he camj. when
TUESDAY. NOVEMBER 5, 1912.
.. he tried to steal every knife and •
fork from the first table he had
ever seen set.
"Good boy. Raffles,” and Raffles
heard, and he lifted up his puppy
voice in a real bark. "Woof! Woof!”
dear, what a fierce voice; it quite
terrifies me. "Woof! Woof!” said
Raffles, the puppy no more—a real
dog. with a dog's responsibilities,
now that the old dog has taken to
wandering in his old age.
Foolish dog; he makes me think
of some old men I know, old enough
lor a chimney corner and out fol
lowing the footsteps of every beck
oning hand. 1 do hope he won’t
teach the pup such bad ideas.
“Good boy, Raffles,” said I again
Doctor’s Anteroom
By H. P. BABCOCK.
YOU don’t know whether you
should bow
Or silently be seated:
You have a feeling that somehow
You’re not politely greeted.
Thej- sit about like toads at night.
You seek a modest corner;
No coffin’s anywhere in sight,
Yet each appears a mourner.
You wonder if, like yours, their ills
Are highly complicated:
Will they be dosed with knives or
pills?
And how long have they waited?
On tables lie some magazines,
Rut nobody is reading;
Their thoughts are all “behind the
scenes."
Where Doc will soon be leading.
He always looks in some way vexed.
Austere within the doorway.
His frigid query, "Who’s the next?”
Is like a blast from Norway.
You may have known him at the
club;
You may be a relation;
You now are but a nameless cub
Of*very humble station.
He looks to neither left nor right.
And. while you’re hesitating.
Some victim vanishes from sight,
And we resume our waiting.
If we were shipwrecked on an isle
In bitter winter weather
We'd surely think it well worth
while
To meet our woes together.
Rut here we sit, poor stricken ones.
With organs that abuse us.
In solemn silence, like gray nuns.
With none to Introduce us.
’ when the pup came in the house
and —oh, the pride, the joy of that
pup! He knew' what he had done;
he knew that he had met his call
of responsibility as a ddg should,
and he held his ragged head high
and grinned, and showed every
white tooth in his faithful, affec
tionate head.
Raffles Hath
Perfect Understanding.
“Wasn’t I all right?” he said,
witji every muscle of his wriggling
body, and I told him, “Yes, he was
quite all right,” and he knew what
I said and gloried in it.
And afterward, when the old dog
came home, he ran to him and
pulled his ears and grabbed him by
the legs and threw him down and
mauled him to and fro. and barked
and acted so strangely that the old
dog watched him with suspicion in
his eye.
Since then Raffles has taken
charge of things in the house. Not
a cricket chirps but his wary ear
rises to heed, and not a shrub stirs
in the fall wind but the hair on the
pup's back ruffles: no one snail
molest his household, not if that
pup knows it.
Afraid? Not he. He was yester
day, but yesterday is past; it is to
day now. And it’s his day at that,
and bravely he's going to live it in
his doggish way.
Good old pup, good old Raffles.
I wonder if he who sleeps so early
at night in the little bed yonder,
and wiio rises at the first peep of
dawn, will rise as gallantly to his
first trial of courage?
1 hope so—oh. how deeply I do
hope so! Dear little brown thins?
that he is, tanned to the color .of
old mahogany with the long, long
summer days in the sweet sun-
brown and red is he, and
sturdy and straight, and he has his
trials, too, already. Didn't he stub
his toe the other day and never let
a tear fall? They gathered—oh,
yes. they gathered, but they did not
fall—not iu the sight of mortal man
or woman.
And when his little friend of the
summer went a*vay and took his
marbles witli him, did he not rush
eagerly to the defense of the absent
one's reputation when some one
mentioned the missing marbles?
“He forgot them, I know he did,”
said little four-year-old.
That was gallant of you. four
year-old; maybe some day you’ll be
as true to the call of duty as the
pup was to his last night. I won
der if you will?
THE HOME PAPER
The Island of Endless Play
By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.
Copyright. 1912. by the New York Evening Journal'Publishing Company.
SAID Willie to Tom. “Let us hie away
To the wonderful Island of Endles Play.
It lies off the border of ‘No School Land.’
And abounds with pleasure. I understand.
There boys go swimming whenever they please
In lovely river right under the trees.
And marbles are free, so you need not buy;
And kites of all sizes are ready’ to fly.
We sail down the Isthmus of Idle Delight.—
We sail and we sail for a day and a night.
And then, if favored by billows and breeze,
We land in the Harbor of Do-as-You-Please.
Ami here lies the Island of Endless Play,
With no one to say to us, Must, or Nay.
Books are not known in that land so fair.
Teachers are stoned if they set foot there.
• *■
Hurrah for the island, so glad and free, ,
That is the country for you and me.”
So away went Willie and Tom together
On a pleasure boat, in the lazy weather. (
And they sailed in the teeth of a friendly breeze
Right into the harbor of “Do-as-You-Please!”
Where boats and tackle and marbles and kites
Were waiting them there in this Land of Delights.
The v v dwelt on the Island of Endless Play
For five long years: then one sad day
A strange dark ship sailed up to the strand,
And “Ho! for the voyage to Stupid Land,”
The captain cried, with a terrible noise,
As he seized the frightened and struggling boys
And threw them into the dark ship’s hole;
And off and 'away sailed the captain bold.
' . . - 1 *
They vainly begged him to let them out,
He answered only with scoff and shout.
“Boys that don’t or work.” said he,
“Must sail one day down the Ignorant Sea
To Stupid Land by the No-Book Strait,
With Captain Time on the Pitiless Fate.”
He let out the sails ai;d away went the three
Over the waters of Ignorant Sea.
Out and away to Stupid Land,
And they live there yet, I understand.
And there’s where every one goes, they say,
Who seeks the Island of En'dless Plav.
The Turks Enter Europe
By the REV. THOMAS B. GREGORY.
THE “Unspeakable Turk,” •
whose power on the White
Man’s Continent now seems
to be rapidly nearing its end, broke
into Europe five and a half centu
ries ago—A. D. 1361.
The real history of the Ottoman
Turks begins with Othman (born
1258), who, originally ruler of a
small mountain district on the
frontier of ancient Bethynia and
Phrygia, gradually extended his
dominion till it became one of the
most flourishing states of Asia
Minor.
The advance of the dynasty after
Otliman was rapid. Not only did
all Asia Minor fall under Turkish
sway, but in the fourteenth cen
tury the Turks crossed the Helles
pont, captured Adrianople, whicfi
they made their capital for a sea
son. and, reaching out from there,
they gradually stripped the Byzan
tine emperors of Thrace, Macedo
nia. Servia and Greece.
At the battle of Adrianople the
legions of Amurath were met by
the ancestors of the present-day
Greeks, Servians and Bulgarians,
but the superior numbers and un
tamed ferocity of the invaders were
too much for the Christians, and
after one of the most sanguinary
and hotly contested fights of his
tory. the Crescent found itself se
curely established in the White
Man’s Country.
From 1361. when Adrianople fell,
to 1453, when Constantinople was
captured by the famous Mahomet
the Second, the Turks met with but
little serious opposition. They were
the greatest fighters of the time,
made so by the fanatical teachings
of their religion, and the Christians
seemed, quite unable to stand up
against them.
This remarkable people, who by
force of arms, and latterly by cun
ning diplomacy, have been enabled
to hold their place on the Euro
pean continent for. more than 550
years, but who are now. from all
indications, about to be effectually
and permanently put out of busi-
ness In Europe, are, ethnologically.
of Tartar breed.
There is little doubt about the
fact that they are by blood and his
tory closely allied with the terrible
Huns, who, away back in A. D. 451,
were so badly beaten by Aetlus in
the great battle of Chalmons-Sur-
Marne, in northeastern France —a
battle the historical significance of
which it would be impossible to
overestimate. God only knows what
might have happened to the w'hite
race in Europe had Aetius failed to
drive the monsters back.
It is equally certain that the
hordes of the famous, or infamous,
Genghis Khan, who seriously
threatened at one time to complete
ly overrun Europe, were of the
same breed with the Turks, mem
bers of the Yellow or Mongolian
race, and radically and everlasting
ly separated from the great Wh ■*
or Caucasian race.
Thus it will be seen that the a
tagonism between the descendan
of Othman and the men who ai
now fighting to a finish the age
long battle rests not merely upot
the ancient animosities born s'
the battle of Adrianople away back
in the fourteenth century, and upon
differences of religion, customs an
institutions, but upon the still deep
er and most important difference of
blood and breed. For more than
five centuries the'enormities of the
Turkish rule in Europe have been
intensified by the fact that the per
petrators of those enormities were
of an alien race, whose ways and
thoughts and life are not the ways
thoughts and life of the White Man.
There has always seemed to me
in the mind of the White Man the
deep-seated conviction that Turk
ish rule in Europe Is unnatural,
logical and in direct opposition to
the nature and fitness of thing',
and It Is such conviction, quit
apart from the Turkish “atroeiti. -
that has kept alive the opposit ■ r
which is now promising to d I'
the 1 urk back to his original
•tamping ground in Asia.