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THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN
Published Every Afternoon Except Sunday
By THE GEORGIAN COMPANY
At 20 East Alabama St., Atlanta, Ga.
Entered ns second-class matter at postoflficc at Atlanta, under act of March 3. IB7S
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Do You Really Want To Be
Thankful?
»• r r
Stop Something Foolish Today—Don't Wait Any Longer.
“What have I to be thankful for?’’ ask ten million men—with
a heavy emphasis on the I
You may be thankful for many things. You have more than a
month left in which to hurry up and attend to those good resolu
tions made last New Year's day.
You arc still ALlVE—and have still OPPORTUNITY ahead
of yon.
When we are thankful in this world, it is because of something
we have DONE. Other people do not bother trying to make us
thankful.
Do you want to be really thankful today*' Stop some foolish
thing that you do every day. YOU know what it is—and your
wife probably knows, or your mother or friend —but no one tells
vou
YOU KNOW
Stop it. Get rid of some one particular foolishness, some weak
ness, some self-deception, some waster of time, money, health or
nerve force.
Wake up tomorrow morning with just ONE less bad and tool
ish habit, and you will be thankful then as you should be today.
Only YOU can give cause for thankfulness to YOU.
What Can the President Do?
r r.
It Depends on WHAT THE PRESIDENT IS. His Opportunities
Are Great.
Mr. Wilson, when he becomes president of the United States
on the fourth of next March, will have powers greater—if he is able
to utilize them —than any other human being—king, emperor or pri
vate citizen—living.
His power will exceed that of the emperor of Russia, first, be
cause he will be the head of a nation much greater and more power
ful than Russia; second, because the Russian emperor, dull natu
rally, living in a state of panic, is controlled by the physically de
bauched grand dukes and the mentally debauched heads of the Rus
sian church, and is really no emperor at all.
The greatest power possessed by our president is THE POW ER
TO TALK TO ALL OF THE PEOPLE EVERY DAY if he chooses
to do so.
His utterances are recorded conspicuously. lie has the oppor
tunity to put the thoughts that are in his mind into millions of other
minds -provided he can make his thoughts interesting.
That power to reach the minds of others is the greatest power
1 hat any man can possess.
Mr. Wilson will have practically the power to make war or
peace* as president of the United States. Controlling the army and
navy, able to take many important steps without consulting con
gress. he could easily precipitate a war. if that seemed to him desir
able, or by wisdom and discretion he could make war impossible.
The president has the power to make treaties. The senate must
give its approval and advice. But the real power is with the presi
dent—a very great power. The president, in his messages to con
gress. recommends and initiates legislation. This gives him prac
tically the power to MAKE laws. For the members of congress de
pend upon him for favors; he has the power to veto the laws and
appropriations that they desire, and they are not apt to ignore his
wishes.
It is possible for Mr. Wilson to do a great deal for the people of
the United States between 1913 and 1917. He can do a great deal
of initiating and carrying through good ideas. And he can do a
great deal by refraining from harmful, premature experimenting
ami very disturbing acts.
Let us hope that all promises made by him or on his behalf will
be more than fulfilled, and that he will shine in history not only as
one who knew what to DO. but as one of the very few and very wise
that know WHAT NOT TO Do.
Baldheaded Women
Alas' now comes a Washington physician with the awful an
uounccim nt that we may expect a race of bald-headed women. He
thinks the children of bald-headed fathers are developing a new
speeii -of tin human family, lie even makes the flattering asser
tion that loss of hair is indicative of mental elevation ami a step in
the evolution of man from the hairy beast to the highest type of
culture.
net us nope tin (lav of the bald headed woman is far distant.
It paralyzes the imagination to picture a bevy of beautiful women
with bald heads. Would they he beautiful?
Says Pope;
Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare
And beauty draws us with a single hair.’’
If the physician is right in declaring that increased mental
ertort means the loss o| hair, our women are facing a serious situa-
in these days of suffrage and feminine activity.
' course, even at the cost of becoming bald-headed, that work
on. but then will always remain wigs, and as our ancestors
w real hair a-plenty, they may solvjlHh<
»* L. '
T.
The Atlanta Georgian
Three Thanksgiving Dinners
Drawn bv HAL COFFMAN
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The home life; the gay life, and the life it leads to.
Responsibility For Many Killings
—
By THOMAS TAPPER.
I.
/—pOlE recent instance of a young
I woman shooting her mother in
a sleeping ear because she
thought her a robber is full of mis
fortune for the young lady, and full
of suggestion for the rest of the
population.
Whenever there is a revolver
handy, the chances are' many to
one that some one w ill get hurt, if
not killed. And some one else,
without evil intent, will become the
murderer of a fellow being.
Why Do We Need Them?
The sale of liquor as a national
menace has so impressed the Amer
ican people that mdny of them are
neither Republicans nor Democrats
—they are not even Bull Moosers.
They are Prohibitionists.
Fairly satisfactory laws govern
the sale of poison. But it seems
absolutely easy for men. women
and children in most communities
to buy firearms, and to maim or
kill through ignorance, misunder
standing or intent.
Why do we need firearms'.'
Wo do not need them—at all
events, in domestic life.
The army and the police make
bad enough use of them at times.
The hunter often shoots his friend's
head off. thinking he is bagging a
moose. It is all a strange commen
tary on the Sunday preachment on
"Thou shall not kill.”
11.
i) ERHAPS the international pe.ue
congress has discussed this
question of tile amateur and the
gun. Hut if it lias the reverbera
tion-of its oratory on the subject
lias not sounded very far.
"He didn't know was loaded”
has become well-nigh a joke in the
recording of accidental shooting.
Might Prove Wholesome.
All historians have deplored the
shooting of Lincoln. Garfield and
McKinley, but none of them has
commented even briefly on the
; -late of civilization that makes it
easy for the . rimiuat and (he in
.ix 10 inwuii tn. an- of kill-
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 28. 1912
•r Two recent pistol shootings in
New York have become notorious
because of the matters involved,
but little or no attention was paid
to the fact that it is as easy to get
a revolver as it is to buy a sewing
machine.
It would be thoroughly whole
some to imprison the dealer who
sold the revolver that was aimed at
Mr. Roosevelt. New York city has
considered the question with some
degree of earnestness, but the bag
ging of Rosenthal was easy.
It would be a thoroughly whole
some step to class firearms with
dynamite, cocaine, opium, cyanide
of potassium, and all the rest of the
quick ways to death.
The daily record of murders
throughout the United States in a
single week is appalling, and most
of them are primarily made possi-
| :: The Turk ::
By JAMES J. MONTAGUE.
\ Y T II" is it that cries tq the smoke cobwebbed skies
Iyy That war’s horrid horrors must cease?
Who is it that yells through the dark Dardanelles
That he is a person of peace? <
Who rises to beg that the Court of The Hague-
Put an end to this awful rough work?
Why. the always unbearable. •
< Formerly terrible,
Recently scareable
Turk,
\ T T " 18 ’*• spread his dominion of dreaa
VV Over ne ig‘' b <>ring terror filled lands?
S \\ ho was it the while wore a hideous smile
s As he stretched forth his blood dripping hands?
Wln>. all unconcerned, slew, and pillaged, and burned.
Putting all who opposed to the dirk?
,1 The seldom courageous.
The often rampageous,
The always outrageous
Old Turk,
(A ND who. now he knows that the wrath of his foes
At last into fury has flared.
Pleads, with fear shaken breath, as he looks upon Death.
I'hat the life that I.* in him be spared?
Who begs to retain the blood-builded domain
Where he once like a beast loved to lurk?
That prince of bravado,
That black desperado.
That gory tornado.
A Tile Turk,
•F ble not because the murderer has a
i gun, but because it is easy' to get
one.
If every state in the Union would
pass a uniform law on the sale and
possession of all varieties of fire
arms, we would conserve a consid
erable number of citizens.
Let Him Get a License.
If a man is afraid to go to sleep
at night without having a revolver
handy, let him be permitted to take
out a license to supply all his doors
and windows with a twelve-inch
gun, to be worked from the bed.
This would, at least, insure him
against killing his wife if she
chanced to get up without giving
him due notice. And if, by mistake,
he should turn on the battery to
the menace of his neighbors, they
might, by license, do the same
-- thing.
THE HOME PAPER
WINIFRED BLACK
Writes on
The Real and the False
Bohemia
The Imitation Is Sordid and Vul
gar, Not to Say Worse, But
the Original Is a Place Where
One Need Only Be Natural.
rpv HERE’S a man of sense in
J America. .He lives in Kansas
City.
The other night he heard that liis
seventeen-year-old daughter had
gone down town to a Bohemian
dinner. The man of sense hopped
into his motor car and began look
ing for that dinner and that daugh
ter.
It took him some little time to
find them, but he did. He arrived
at the "smart case” just as the
wine came on the table —the cock
tails had already gone.
“Daughter," said the man of
sense, "daughter, come home with
me.”
Daughter stood up. then she sat
down. She flushed and bit her fool
ish little lip. "I'm dining here, fa
ther,” said the girl, “and I can’t
break up the party.”
“Daughter, Come Home. - '
"Daughter,” said the man of
sense, "daughter, come home.”
The man who took the girl to the
Bohemian dinner stood up. He did
his best to look like the hero in
the last society play. "Sir.” said
the young man. huskily—he really
wasn’t a bad fellow, but the two
cocktails had already gone to his
not overly strong head. "Sir, I
brought your daughter here. We are
having a little Bohemian dinner —
my friends and I and”
“Young man,” said the man of
sense, "what you and your friends
are having does not interest me in
the least. I want my daughter to
come home, ymd she’s coming.” And
daughter came.
Bohemian dinner! If I had a
young daughter at the dinner age,
and any man, woman or child dared
to utter the word Bohemian to her.
I’d forbid my daughter ever to look
at, speak to or think of the per
son who said that obnoxious word
in her presence ever again as long
as she lived—or at least as long
as she depended on me for board
and lodging and clothes.
Bohemian! No Teal Bohemian
ever mentions the thing, or even
knows what you mean when you
mention it—if you are that sort of
person.
Bohemian! That’s the name and
the right name, too, for a lot of
cheap little dives witli red curtains
all over the place, bad cooking, im
itation wine and cheap vulgarity
that is not imitation at ail,
I remember the first “Bohemian”
place I ever saw. I was eighteen,
wide-eyed and romantic.
Some friends took me to dine
over somewhere, with a saloon on
both sides of the door, a cheap
dance hall opposite, and a blond
with black eyes at the cashier’s
desk.
"A regular grisette,” whispered
one of my friends, as we passed
the blond cashier at her desk in
the cage.
"A regular what?” 1 gasped.
"S-sh!” said my friend, "she’ll hear
you.” So I knew Hiat a grisette
was something mysterious and not
exactly—er— a——
Some of the “Notables.”
The dinner was bad, distinctly
bad. Thin soup, fish that you really
couldn’t think of, something they
called "roti,” two leaves of wilted
lettuce for salad, and a dab of vil
lainous pink stuff they said was ice
cream. But, oh, the atmosphere!
Oh, the art for art’s sake! Oh.
the wild adventurous air of the
whole place!
I looked at an elderly person
with two pink spots on her cheeks
and a mouth so red it really wasn’t
quite nice to look at.
"Blank, the famous dancer,” said
my friend. “Dying of consumption.
See that yoting fellow with her?
He has devoted his life to her. Gave
up everything on earth to stay with
her until she dies—beautiful story.”
The elderly person took a little
too much wine and made eyes at
the waiter. Somehow I could not
feel quite so romantic when 1 saw
that.
"Bunny Bunstone, the great wit,"
By WINIFRED BLACK.
poly man with a pig’s face and a
pair of twinkling, selfish, eold,
greedy pig’s eyes, came by. Bunnv
looked as if he had never been
quite sober In his life.
“So and So, the violinst. \e y
seedy the violinist, and very sullen
he looked, and the woman with
him looked half scared to death
every time he looked at her.
Old. young, pretty, ugly, seedy
and flashy—every one of the Bo
hemians. and posing and false and
self-conscious, too, every mother's
daughter and every mother’s son of
them.
They talked too loud, they laugh
ed too loud, they looked at the
waiters for approval, they ogled
each other too odiously when they
began dinner, and before they were
through—dear me! I wished so
hard that I was at home.
Bohemian! Drunk and disorder
ly, that’s what they were in plain
police court language, and I’d rath
er see any girl of mine a prim
Puritan to the day of her death
than to have her get accustomed to
seeing that sort of thing and taking
it as a matter of course.
What right has a man to take a
girt to a place like that and tell her
who this faded notoriety is, and
who it is that sits guzzling at the
disreputable table with her disrep
utable friends?
What right has a middle-aged
woman to chaperon a decent girl
to any such place?
Bohemia! The real Bohemia —ah.
that’s a different thing. You don’t
have to drink more than is good for
you to live there. You don’t have
to eat messy food and tell risky
stories. You don’t have to pre
tend to admire elderly berouged
persons because they once ran
away with somebody’s husband, or
completely ruined somebody’s son,
A Bad Half Hour,
You just have to be natural, and
real, and honest and perhaps a
little clever. You may dress in
gingham or in silk, or walk n
purple and rustle in lace: no on
will care and many will not ev<-i
know. It is you they will lik. . no:
some ’posing, self-scheming erw
ture that pretwnds. But you—jus
you as your mother bore you—nr
if you are kind and generous
simple as well as wise and dev.
or even just kind and simi
nothing more, thej will lov< you
in the real Bohemia, even if
like things to be clean and pre ’
ham and eggs; to “rotis” and v t> -
salad.
So you took her home, die
father—home to mother. Iron
little brother?
Bohemia! For her. for t >
girl whose first tooth you irrv
somewhere set in some absurd ri
or other?
And she cried all the w..y h >t..
did she, and tried to be dignifies
and indignant ? Her soft rii'"
was Hushed with the eockt.ni' s
drank before- you arrived, nr - !l
kept saying that she won’' •'
step out of th- house again -
as she You -i.,d .mi--
and shamed her so.
Well, well, it was a b'e b 1 ”'
but it is past now, all - 1 ”'
some day the little girl will •
daughter how you came
her go Home with you.
It may be Bohemian to 1
curtains yellow instead of
the Cocktail- will floubties- i' l
new name, but they have I.;-
old-fashione,i effect, just t
and if 40U are a wise motii"
will keep daughter away Loin L
heinia and keep her m a as.'
t hat.
Stop any one out of a do--
things who slip bv in l ‘“
these chill evenings— paim
dizened, ogling, poor thin-'
things, and if she tells
truth, you'll hear something > ■
the first Bohemian dime 1
make you glad daitglit'",
one to pi ot eel her fi " n: 11
all their ilk ami kind.
Here’s to you. Mr. >' •'
num. Some day little ilaiia
thank you for taking hi’ l 'J
ss