Newspaper Page Text
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 8. 18TJ
Subscription Price—Delivered by carrier, 10 cents a week. By mall, J 5.00 a year
Payable In advance.
The Open Secret of Wilson’s
Success
When Dr. Samuel Johnson said that it is better to make a little
grass grow than to be a politician, he had reference to the fact that
politicians, as a class, are likely to diminish the grass-acreage by
drawing men's minds away from productive enterprises and en
grossing them in fruitless questions of abstract justice.
It is true in this time and country, as in other times and other
countries, that the typical politician has provoked such vehement
discussions about the right division of the good things of life that
he has absorbed and wasted a vast volume of social energy that
should have been expended in the production and delivery of the
goods.
Thus it is •prophetic of the dawn of a new kind of polities when
a public man is lifted up to the most conspicuous and powerful place
in the nation because he has shown himself strong to rally the lat
ent and hesitant forces of creative enterprise. That is what has
happened to Governor Wilson. The people of America have re
sponded with a great cheer to his manifesto of economic emanci
pation.
His dominant note is the release of the productive forces of so
ciety. He would unshackle the minds and the limbs of all kinds of
workers, and would fling wide open to them the gates of oppor
tunity. X
Both the Taft campaign and the Roosevelt campaign ran on
lines of hereditary politics—the kind that Dr. Johnson scorned.
They held out no credible promise that two blades of grass should
grow where one has grown. They confined themselves to the old
head-aching problem of the division and tfpportionment of pros
perity. Mr. Taft invited us to be content with the apportionment
that we have, lest a worse fate befall. And Mr. Roosevelt urged
. us to undertake a new apportionment.
The Taft campaign was a propaganda of mental repression
and fear; it made its futile appeal to the timidity of the voters.
The Roosevelt campaign was a propaganda of accusation and
reprisal; it offered some people a fighting chance to get even
with other people.
Mr. Roosevelt had nothing to say for the widening and
deepening of the channels of enterprise. There was no thought
in his mind to increase the volume and current of prosperity.
He contented himself with his intricate sum of long division.
'{<• wanted to divide prosperity up.
Now, there is no reason to suppose that the Wilson ad
ministration will be any less concerned than z Mr. Roosevelt is
with the establishment of economic justice between man and
man. But Wilson understands thrft the road to justice lies
through the cultivated fields of industrial expansion. He un
lerstands that the way to get “social justice’’ is to compel the
people with boots and spurs to dismount from the backs of the
people with saddles and bridles on. He is determined to dou
ble the productive power of the country by unbuckling the har
iess and taking it off.
Wilson is right in insisting that what we want is more pros
perity—and that the way to get it is to give more men a chance
to put their ambition and intelligence into the building of the
cities and the subduing of the earth. He understands that the
right way to divide prosperity is to equalize opportunity.
This is the secret of Wilson *s success. It was shown on Tues
day that the American people agree with the president-elect
that the golden eggs of prosperity can not be got at in bulk by
the summary dissection of the goose.
William Howard Taft
To William Howard Taft history will be kinder than the
times in which he lived.
He was not framed for a great executive. That fine judi
cial mind and temper balancing the even sides of great ques
tions was prejudicial to swift decision and vigorous execution.
He would have made an ideal justice of the supreme court of
the United States. And to this high and serener station all his
desires and ambitions moved—rather than to the presidency.
Theodore Roosevelt and another influence led his unwilling
feet to the white house at a tame when they might have car
ried him to the bench.
But William Howard Taft is an honest, great-hearted man
and an unselfish lover of his country. And this meed of praise
—with the responsibility for some great measures which will
surely live—must be the present epitaph upon a political ca
reer which is evidently closed.
He has occupied for four years the highest office in the
world. And he leaves it without a stain.
Theodore Roosevelt
In the cable message sent by Mr. Hearst to Colonel Roosevelt
after the Milwaukee shooting are these words:
“Every thoughtful American realizes how great a force you exercise
throughout our country in support of popular rights and political liberties.
All must hope, as 1 do, that neither this regrettable accident nor .any
other occurrence will ever interfere with your tffective and essential work
along these progn -six and patriotic lines."
This is a fair epitome of the mission and motive of the redoubt
able American of Oyster Bay. Within these lines Colonel Roosevelt
serves his time usefully and effectively. He is the antidote to apathy
in our public affairs. The waters of public opinion will not grow
stagnant while his vigorous mind and will agitate the current.
With astonishing vigor and consummate skill, Colonel Roosevelt
has builded a new political party. It will not die. l-’or the next four
years the new party will live hs a perpetual challenge to our tri
umphant Democracy to fulfill it* pledges and make good
It remains now for • 'olouel Rooses eh to do as he proposed to do.
reinsigoraiion as he may be able to infuse into its broken and
followers
The Atlanta Georgian
The Cringing Coward
Drawn By HAL COFFMAN.
w wfek '■ ■ ~ "HUI
V\ ■
■fc£ ■
t /Xi X
Va .'T '
T BEAUTY vs. DUTY T
TTT7ELL, well, Villa Faulkner
V V so it's a sign of mental
deficiency to be fat! You said
so right out in meeting, your meet
ing at a big hotel in New York.
Also you said: “The woman who is
indifferent to her looks ought to be
sent to an Insane asylum.”
Good news, nil this, isn’t it. sis
ters? —cheery, early morning greet
ings—but whisper, I don't believe a
word of it. Do you, May Irwin; do
you, Fay Templeton; do you. Marie
Dressier; do you, Mrs. Cornwallis
West ?
Mental deficiency! That's good.
Why, some of the cleverest people
I know are fat. and good and fat
at that. And some of the stupid
est are little, scrawny, half-starved
creatures, who look as if they’d
break in two if you gave them a
good hug and an old-fashioned kiss.
“A woman who doesn’t care all
the time how site looks ought to go
to a sanitarium,” so you think, eh,
dear Miss Page?
Well, then, most of the women
who amount to a row of pins in
this world ought to be shut up in
dark cells, padded at that. and never
let out again.
They Don't Have Time.
“Care all the time how she
looks?" Do you know what that
would mean to most women, dear
lady? Do you realize that the av
erage woman has just about as
much time to devote to manicuring
her nails as the average dock la
borer ?
Manicurist, hair dresser, com
plexion specialist; why. you might
as well say gold dust from Mars to
the average every-day woman not
file women crowding to your funny
little meetings, but the women who
count, the nomen whose work
amounts to something, the women
who help the world along every day,
all day, and sometimes half the
nlghi. too.
What time has a woman with
six or seven children to qlve to her
complexion.' If she gets the time
to take .< good bath every day, that
is about us much as she cun even
hope t<> accomplish, mid mostly
she's too busy for that.
What hour shall she l.ave her
MONDAY. NOVEMBER 11. 1912.
Bv WINHERED BLACK.
* bath—before breakfast, and keep
father waiting for his coffee?
After breakfast? Who’d get the
girl and the boy off to school, lunch
eon packed, buttons all on, pencils
in their case, books in the strap,
hair combed and faces washed?
Before noon? Who’d make the
beds, air the rooms, sweep the din
ing room, order the food for the
day. luncheon on the stroke of
twelve?
It's Worth the Trouble.
After lunch? Little Bobby is
home from kindergarten, his- linger
is hurt and he has to be petted a
while; Jane has torn a hole in her
skirt: there’s a rent in the hall rug;
those curtains need rehanging.
Who's that at the phone? There's
the door bell, ladies canvassing for
the church supper; yes, she will
give one of her fine chocolate
cakes, and a cranberry pie, too.
What. 5 o'clock, and half the
mending not even looked at? John
will be home in half an hour or so.
and he does hate to come in and
not see/the table set for dinner.
Hurry, hurry; there, dinner's
ready to the minute; just what
John likes, too. Os course, those
corncakes were a bit of trouble,
but look at John’s face when he
catches sight of them.’
Eight o'clock—just a minute for
the evening paper. Nellie must
have some help with her arithmetic
first, though. Oh, the ribbon is half
off the hat and the stockings must
be darned.
Ten o’clock, they are all in bed
asleep, all but mother. She's laying
out the little clothes to be put on in
the morning, folding the ribbon
carefully that Mary left where it
fell, opening a window here, shut
ting a door there
What, going to bed without a
complexion treatment! No beauty
rub tonight! Look at those hands
of yours who would want to kiss
them; and that hair, you ought to
get It brushed at least 10M strokes a.
day.
Well, well, y op poor foolish good
for-nothing half-wit, you’ll have tc
go to u sanitarium tomorrow, you
haven’t even thought of your looks
since you washed your face and
combed your hair this morning.
And you are not a slum dweller,
either, by a long ways, or even a
very poor woman. Well-to-do they
call you down tn the little village
you came from. Just an average,
rather better off than most Ameri
can women, and you ought to go to
an asylum because you didn't sit in
front of a glass half the day mak
ing faces at yourself and thinking
that that would keep the old man
with the scythe away from your
door.
Thirty-five, and you look it. What
an outrage! What a sin! Why,
your crime against your sex cries
to Heaven. Don’t you know that
it is a woman's first duty to be
beautiful '.’
Children, husband, work, duty'.’
Pouf! whistle them down the wind;
what you want is a complexion
even if you have to get it in a box.
What you want is shiny hair and a
figure; that's the way to keep your
husband. You are away behind the
times, really, you're hopeli»ss, quite
hopeless.
He Certainly Has Spells.
And yet, do you know, little vom
an, that I believe you are more than
half right? I don’t believe your
husband, John, is such a fool as
these beautj’ eranks would try to
make us all believe. I believe J .hr;
cares something for such women as
you without the complexion and
the shining hair. He certainly has
spells of acting as If he did.
And as for the rest of us, do you
know that the whole America® na
tion is held together by just such
woman as you, the plain, unassum
ing, hard-working little mothers in
the little homes all over this great
soft-hearted, hard-headed country
of ours?
I do hope Miss Page and her fol
lowers will not hear about you and
have you all sent to asylums—just
yet. Not till all the little children
ure grown up and all the hungry,
hard-working men are fed, and all
the lonely hearts are comforted.
I'm afraid w< should miss you. Just
u littls
THE HOME PAPER
Elbert Hubbard
Writes on
Middlemen and
Menials
Civilization, He Says, Is a Great
System of Transfers. Each
One Does the Thing He Can
Do Best and Works for the
Good of All.
By ELBERT HUBBARD
Copyright, 1912. by International News Service
/"■TECHNICALLY, a middleman
j is any one who stands between
the producer and the con
sumer.
Most of the people who use the
expression regard a “middleman” as
an animated example of lost mo
tion, a specimen of economic slack.
Edward Bellamy’ declared adver
tising to be an economic waste;
and he explained that the cost of
advertising was always counted in
and added to the value of the ar
ticle, and. was paid for by the ul
timate consumer. He then made
his calculation that by eliminating
advertising the cost of the article
to the consumer would be much
reduced.
It Gives Information.
To this argument we make no
exception, but to the assumption
that all advertising is economic
waste a demurrer must here be en
tered.
Advertising is telling who you
are, where you are, and what you
have to offer the world in the way
of service or commodity.
If nobody' knows who you are, or
what you have to offer, you do no
business, and the w’orld is the
loser through giving you absent
treatment.
Life is too short for the consumer
to employ detectives to ferret out
merchants who have the necessities
of life to sell. People who want to
buy’ things do not catch the seller,
chloroform him and cram the or
ders into his pocket.
Parties who want milk should not
seat themselves on a stool in the ■
middle of the field in hope that the
cow will back up to them.
We are part and particle of each
other, but a little of the kindly glue
of human brotherhood is needed in
order to fasten us together.
Work and Appreciation
By JEAN CABELL O'NEILL.
C "CONFRONTING every ambi
tious male and female clerk
is the oft propounded query,
“Does it pay to work hard? Does
an employer appreciate faithful
service?’
Answers for or against are regu
lated more by temperament than
by experience, for some workers
believe fully that no matter what
the effort it is never appreciated—
and to this class it is impossible to
extend even hope.
So sure are these unfortunates
of their premises it is a waste of
time to try to change their point of
view. But to the more open minds
who are not sure whether or no
their labor receives the proper meed
of applause there is some chance of
missionary work.
Granted the negative side of the
question, all of us know how much
easier it Is to win to the sound of
shouts of encouragement—how
hard the lone battle is. “Your boss
doesn't know you are on earth" is
depressing certainly, but the pay
master knows, and you regularly
receive your stipend.
Possibly the boss thinks your
best effort is nominated in the
bond that placed you on the pay
roll. Look from his side of the
question—he pays for good service,
he doesn't promise you praise for
doing well what he has purchased
of you! Why blame him?
Do any of us throw appreciative
comments at the devoted heads of
our domestic servants? We may
wish to do so, but fear the cook or
maid will be so Inflated by praise
she will raise her wage on us, or
become spoiled by the idea she can
not be dispensed with.
Would we consider these domes
tics entitled to go about sulkily be
cause, though their wages were
paid promptly, they were not con
stantly told how well they were
doing?
Now, we stand to our employer
• The policeman who keeps the
crossing clear and at the same time
Informs us as to the location of the
First National bank, no doubt, in
one sense, is an economic waste.
On the other hand, he is an eco
nomic necessity. He is a necessary
middleman. He relieves the con
gestion of traffic, and, granting the
hypothesis that he does not misdi
rect us, he speeds us on our way
He Is Necessary.
The musician who entertains
the lecturer who informs us, the
writer who inspires us, and the
lawyer who shows us how to keep
out of trouble, all are middlemen.
We say that food is the primal
need. Next to this comes love.
People who are not properly nour
ished bicker without ceasing; so
Love flees and stands aloof, naked
and cold, with finger to his lips.
Granting that food is a primal
need, food then must be cooked and
served. The very’ simple service of
the cafeteria, where you flunky for
yourself and pocket your own fee,
is a necessity.
A System of Transfers.
Somebody must cook and some
body’ must serve. Otherwise all of
us would have to do the thing for
ourselves, and then all of our ef
forts would be taken up in the
search for food and we would be
reduced to the occupation of the
cave man.
Civilization is a great system of
transfers. Each one does the thing
he can do best and works for the
good of all.
It is all for each and each for all.
There is just one way for us to
abolish the working class, and that
is to join it.
So any’ man who does a needed
service for humanity should be hon
ored. There are no menial tasks.
The necessary’ is the worthy, and
. the useful is the sacred.
much as our servants stand to us.
If we understand human nature we
will praise when praise is possible,
and as quickly as we are in the
habit of blaming some one when
things go wrong, for appreciation
of the efforts of man, horse or dog
stimulates to greater endeavor.
Still it only makes for personal
unhappiness to bear a grievance on
the soul, and the clerk who gives
time to thinking he is not valued is
giving himself unnecessary sorrow
If you do not think you are fairly
treated move on to another sphere
of usefulness, or if you know you
can not get a better place put dis
quieting thoughts as to how the
“boss” regards you out of your
mind. After a little practice you
will find you have ceased to worry
yourself about the matter, and
your fellows will notice you arft
doing better work.
It is, of course, easier to work
finely if we know our superior offi°
cer is watching with ready smile
for our success: we are ready to
burst a blood vessel for him. silly a*
this would be, as he wants higherf
efficiency, not a crippled enthusi«
asm.
But suppose tiie “boss" doesn't
know you are on earth, what then?
Can you shirk or slight your task
just because no vote of thanks goes
with the accomplishment? If you
are better than an “eye servant"
you will do your very best for the
glory of a duty performed.
“Work is worship,” and those who
work “with their might as unto the
Lord,” as the practical St. Paul ad
vised. find the labor is sweetened,
and an enthusiasm for the task Is
engendered that lifts one above tin
fret of whether any one knows you
are working well.
Try the plan, we so rarely can
have what we want, so let us de
termine to vant what we have. H
certainly will ease nerves, sweeten
temper and make the hours fly