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I 7 i I ;! U J *1- j * V V*JL*\SA I \ J 1 . t , 1 i » , , n^/ * *AJAJ~A \ 4. • 4JI-J IN \ EDITORIAL RAGE The Atlanta Georgian THE HOME RARER THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN Published Every Afternoon Except Sunday By THE GEORGIAN COMPANY At 20 East Alabama St., Atlanta, Ga. Entered as aecond-clasr matter at postofflce at Atlanta, under act of March 3.1 >*T'i Subscription Price l»elivered by carrier, 10 cents a week. By mail, fy.00 a year. Payable in Advance. Recalling a Judge--And Women Led the Crusade in This First Example Possibly the Law Can Catch Up Judge Weller, of San Francisco, has been recalled by a vote of the good people of that progressive city, and conserva tive citizens throughout the nation will be duly shocked at a radical performance which these conservative citizens have be lieved, or professed to believe, would shatter the foundations of order and of established government. In this dreaded San Francisco situation there is another condition which should startle the reactionaries, and that is, that the women led the crusade for the recall of Judge Weller, and cast a large part of the vote which recalled him. But when conservative, or even reactionary, citizens are fa miliar with the situation which resulted in the recall of Judge Weller they will be more disposed to realize that in this first in stance at least of the recall of a judge their fearful forebodings are not wholly justified. San Francisco is no more free from vice than any other city. There exist in that city, as elsewhere, evil men who prey, upon the weaknesses of young girls and lure them to their ruin and to a life of shame. As a rule such scoundrels, through the secrecy of their acts, or through the “pull” which they possess in certain corrupt quarters, escape the punishment of their evil deeds. But one such villain was caught and brought before the Grand Jury in San Francisco and held to answer before Judge Weller, The crime of this scoundrel—we refer to the indicted crim inal—was of the vilest kind, and the criminality of his ^ct could not even find palliation in the cbnsent of the girl he had de stroyed. Yet Judge Weller, through a sympathetic feeling, or through the influence of that political “pull” of which we hear and see so muoh, put this vile criminal under merely nominal bonds and allowed him to jump the bail and leave the State. Judge Weller 's action was typical of a condition which the good people of San Francisco had determined to destroy, and in order to begin the remedy forcefully and effectively they began with a petition to recall this unworthy judge. Let the reactionaries of the country, if they will, defend this criminal and this judge who acted in collusion with him. Let the reactionaries attack the principle of the recall and the policy of woman’s suffrage in this instance, if they can find arguments with which to do so. But The Georgian believes that the recall of judges has be gun in a case which gives every evidence that the principle will be carefully and intelligently applied, and only exerted when its operation is obviously for the best interests of the commu nity. The Georgian also believes that the women have again dem onstrated their intelligence and conscience and fine moral qual lty as citizens and voters, and The Georgian hails this case of Judge Weller as another and a convincing proof of the propriety and practicability of the progressive principles which it has so consistently advocated. “It cannot be helped—it is as it should be—that the law is behind the times.” Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jus tice of the Supreme Court, says the law must necessarily content itself with following a consid erable distance in the wake of the world’s prevailing thought— because it can only embody “beliefs that have triumphed in the battle of ideas' ’ and ‘' while there is doubt . . the time for law has not come.” This is the same as to say that judges must decide to-day’s cases according to the ideas of yesterday, and must not apply the ideas of to-day until after they have ceased to be applicable. If the law is to be thought of as a building, to which the Legislature adds a new story to meet every new social situation, and if the new story cannot be built until after the new situation has been thoroughly mastered and understood by the mass of the people, without any help from the courts—then this aston ishing philosophy of Justice Holmes must be allowed to be cor rect. But if, on the contrary, the law is not at all to be thought of as a dead structure of brick or steel—if it is rather to be thought of as a living body, with red blood and brains and the breath of generations of justice-seeking men—if it has feet to stand on and hands td lay hold of the right weapons in the vast arsenal of principles and precedents—why, then, of course, the learned Justice has made a grave mistake. I CONCERNING A TRANSFER. Editor The Georgian: As a reader of the Hoarst pa pers ever since the first publica tion of The American in Chicago. I take this means of bringing to the notice of the people in tins city an injustice on the part of the street car company to a stran ger in this city. I attended the baseball game Friday and after file game bt>ard- . (1 the first car I could crowd onto to get to the Terminal Ho ld. where I am stopping. On paying my fare, I asked if the car would carry me to the Terminal Station, and was told by the con ductor that it would not. but that give me a transfer, and :>uld take any car marked Station. I left this dar ostoffice and walked over orner of Broad and Mn- :reels and took the first iced, as 1 was directed to he conductor. The con- ii that car refused to take requested a cash id, as he said the was from a Ponce d‘this car was the he could not ao- wouli linal my transfer, and fare, which I pa transfer 1 had v Deleon car and tame due, cept my transfer. He said I could get off and use this transfer on a Hunter car. What 1 would like to know is why 1 should have to wait for a < ertain car going to the same des tination (for me)? There is no reason whatever for the street railway company not using a spe cial transfer on a special car as the passenger accepts this tran* lei in good faith and has abso lutely no way of knowing wheth er it is good or not STRANGER FROM C|UDAGO. INFLUENCE OF HOME LIFE. Editor The Georgian: Recently 1 read in The Georgian an article by Mrs Bohnefield. po lice matron in Atlanta, in which •he says that home life Is more cause than anything else of girls* ruin, for which 1 want to thank her for her good, plain words. I .»gree with her in all she says. My plea is for mothers (and fa thers) to talk plainly to their children. Do not let the children be afraid to make a confidant of mother or of father. MRS. « A UR IE V BRANDON Fort ers, Fla. Gee! I Wonder Who Made Those? By HAL COFFMAN. jl lkk ■m “'III: V* ~ _ L r; .. 1 W TE V Labor and Deserved Leisure By Ella Wheeler Wilcox Copyright, 1918, by American* Journal-Examiner. B EFORE we wk for leisure let us learn The eacredTiess of time— the holy truet .. Confided for a season to our care. Labor and Leisure make life beautiful When well divided, and labor means Deserved reward, and leisure sweet repose, Or happy explorations in the fair Ascending paths of pleasure. When we grow In health, in wisdom and In hap piness, Through hours of freedom, then, and then alone, We prove our right to clamor for more time; But when the glnshop and the gambling den, The dive, the public dance hall and the street Send sodden creatures slowly back to toll After the ending of a holiday, It makes a louder protest than the voice Of tyrant Greed against the shortened hour And lengthened ivagre of labor. Look to it The leisure lifts you ere you ask for more. No one can find fault or discharge them or dock their wage if they happen to be late or take a holi day. To be compelled to go to work at a certain hour and to remain until the prescribed lime, as has already been stated. Is quite an other story. I hope to live to see the time Letters From The Georgian's Readers ^ HE above lines written by me have called forth sev eral criticisms and protests, some kindly meant, some meant unkindly, from working people and their defender*. All these protests have been made from a mistaken point of view. No one living believes more fully in the shortening of hours of labor than the writer of the lines quoted. I work frequently fifteen hours a day. But 1 work for myself, and because I like my work. I have no employer, and that makes an entirely different thing of la bor. Eight Hours Sufficient. Eight hours a day are quite enough for continuous work of any kind. Most employer*, heads of business houses and capital ists. who have the money-making fever, work more than that. But they also work for themselves. ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. when by inventions and by new' conditions the whole drudgery of the world's work will be done on five hours* time and the human race allowed the remainder to grow, mentally and spiritually. As I came of a long-lived race on two sides, I may realize my dream, but the world will realize it some time, surely. When 1 think of the cotton mills, with their deafening roar and flying dust, where 1 have seen women working ten and twelve hours a day and begging positions for their children (and opposing any movement to prevent the em ployment of children as I person ally knew them to be); when 1 think of the feather factories and sweatshops and the thousands of other manufactories where no light of day ever penetrates and tnen. women and children are sacrificing eyesight and health on the altar of greed. I long to open all the doors and send the toilers forth to green fields and the woods for half ofievery work ing day; and 1 know the world would be better off and the prog ress of every race accelerated were it made possible for every toiler in the land to enjoy three hours of rest every day in the open air. It is because I want the toilers themselves to help make the world realize their need that the quoted lines were written. The Employer’s Objection. The employer's objection to the shorter hour of labor is under stood as the voice of Greed. But when the ginshop and the gambling den. The dive, the public dance hall and the street * Send sodden creatures back to toll* After the ending of a holiday It makes a louder protest than the voice Of tyrant Greed * • * 1 have seen a woman weep and have heart} her regret the an nouncement of an unexpected holiday for her husband. He was a workingman, a laborer. She knew r the holiday meant the wasting of his wages and the greater injury to his health than tw’o days' work. It meant the ginshop and the gambling den. When an employer sees and knows of many similar results from holidays he is strengthened in his arguments against the shortened hours of labor. He does not stop to think of the thousands of women and the hundreds of sober and moral men all about him who need the added leisure to make home life worth the name. He docs not consider the pit iable cases of poor fathers who love their children, yet w r ho nev er see them save when they are asleep. Argument in Favor.. Nor the numbers of wivea and mothers rising at the dawn to prepare a breakfast for husbands and sons who return at nightfall unable to do more than to fall into exhausted sleep. For every argument againat the movement of shortened hours of labor there are a dozen good ones in its favor, but it is a misfor tune when the laboring man him self, by his bad habits during hours of leisure, makes a louder protest than the enemies of the movement are making. LOOK TO IT THAT LEISURE LIFTS YOU ERE YOU ASK FOR MORE. The Film Makers BY MILES OVERHOLT T HE train rushed swiftly onward over mountains wild and steep, Past cataracts and waterfalls and canyons wide and deep; And then there came an aw ful crash—a bridge had tumbled in— And the shouting of a pilgrim could be heard above the din. The pilgrim stood upon the brink and turned a crank machine, Nor ran to help the injured—he must regulate his screen; For the guy was taking pictures of the wreck, which you must know- He was the traveling agent for a moving picture show. In far Arabia’s sandy clime a caravan was stopped. A w’hispered word passed dow n the line and then the camels dropped. The men lay down in awful fright behind the living fort, The while the sandstorm frolicked like a giant bent on sport. And while the travelers groveled there, prepared to meet their doom. A Johnnie with a camera stood up amid the gloom And turned the crank industriously to catch the sandy blow*— He was the traveling agent for a moving picture show. From pole to pole, from clime to clime, in chilly or in warm. In Africa’s w'ilds, in city streets, in sunshin ■ or in storm, Up in the air. beneath the sea, on mountain or in vale. Alone on foot, on ‘■pedal train, on toad or Indian trail. Where’er there’s life or death or woe, or nay be some of each. Believe us, St?ve. the picture man is always within reach. He’s there in forty-seven way-, no matter where you go— Don’t pay hard cash to see the world—take in a picture show. Elbert Hubbard Declares Charity Breeds' Beggars Any Man Who Has a Has a Chance, He Says, and the World Needs Capable People as Never Before. It Is Able and Willing to Pay Them for it if They Can Ren der a Service. By ELBERY HUBBARD Copyright. 15)13, S AILORS just ashore, with gay painted galleys in tow. and with three months’ pay, are the most charitable men on earth. The beggars wax glad when Jack lumbers their way: but. alas, tomorrow' Jack belongs to the poor. Charity in the past has been prompted by weakness and whim —the penance of rogues--and often we give to get rid of the troublesome applicant. Beggary and virtue were im agined to have something akin. Rags and honesty were sort of synonymous, and we spoke of honest hearts that bear ’neath ragged jackets. That was poetry, but was it art? Or was it just a little harmless exercise of the lachrymose glands? Cringed and Crawled. Riches and roguery were spoken of in one breath, unless the gen tlemen w'fcld present, and then we curtsied, cringed and crawled. ( These things doubtless dated back to a time when *fne only mode of accumulating wealth was through oppression. Pirates were rich—honest men were poor. To be poor proved that you tvere not a robber. r P le# h eroes ih war took cities ^nd all they could carry away was theirs. The monasteries were passing rich in the Middle Ages, because their valves opened only one way —they received much and paid out nothing. Jo save the spuls of men w r as a just equivalent for ac cepting their services for the lit tle time they were on earth. The monasteries owned the land, and the rentals paid by the fiefs and villeins went Into the Church’s treasuries. Sir Walter Scott had an abbot say this: “I took the vow of poverty, and find myself with an income of twenty thousand pounds a year." But wealth did not burden the monks forever. Wealth changes hands—that is one of its peculi arities. Camg wild war, red of tooth and claw. And the soldiery, who heretofore had been used only to protect the religious orders, now, flushed w'ith victor y, turned against them. Easy to Listen Then. Charges were trumped up against churchmen high in au thority. The monasteries were looked upon as contraband of war. "To the victors belong the spoils” was the motto of a certain man who was President of the United States, so persistent was the war idea of acquiring wealth. The property of the religious orders was confiscated, and as a International News Service. reward for heroic services sol diers were given big tracts of land. The great estates in Europe all have their origin in this well- established custom of dividing the spoils. The plan of taking the property of eu A or all who were guilty of tuition, contumacy and contravention was well estab lished by precedents that traced back to Gain. When George Washington ap propriated the estate of Roger Morris, forty centuries of prece dent looked down upon him. Also it might be added that if a man owned a particularly valu able estate. It was easy for a sol dier to listen to and believe the report that the owner had spoken ill of the king, and given succor to the enemy. Then the soldier felt it his "duty" to punish the recreant one ; by taking his property. That gave us The Age of the Barons. The Reign of the Barons was merely a transfer of pow’er with no revision of ideals. The choice between a miter and a helmet is nil and when the owner con verses through his headgear, his logic is alike vulnerable and val ueless. The Past Is Dead. Then The Age of the Barons has given away to The Age of the Merchants. The Merchants, whose business it is to carry things from where they are plentiful to where they are needed. But they did business by finesse and clev erness flavored with deception. But the times have changed. Truth is now an asset, and a lie is a liability. Merchants to-day deal with their friends. Money is incidental to service. Domes co-operation so quietly, and with so little ostentation that men do not realize the change. “Lay hold on eternal life,’’ said St. Paul, writing to Timothy. The proper translation we now know should have been, “Lay hold on the ago to come.’’ All life is a preparation, just as • all life is a sequence—a result. The past is dead, thaypresent is dying, and only that which is to come is alive Philanthropy once was pallia tion. just as the entire practice of medicine was palliation until day before yesterday. Now we believe in equality of opportunity. We give men a chance—or we certainly should. And any man who has a Job has a chance. The world needs capa ble people as never before. Also it is able and willing to pay them it if they can render a aerv- for ice. Garibaldi in London By REV. THOMAS B. GREGORY. G ARIBALDI’S famous visit to England began April 1. 1863—and for the fol lowing twenty-four days the red-shlrted old hero was giv en the time of his life. Never any foreigner, hardly any native hero, b id ever been tendered such a magnificent reception. The Duke of Sutherland's four- horse carriage.. containing the Son of the Skipper of Nice, strug gled for six long hours through five miles of London streets, ^be tween the starting point at the vessel on which Garibaldi arrived and Stafford House Square, near St. James Palace. A half million people hatf turned out to meet the man in the red shirt and gray blanket, and when the square was reached it seemed that all London was there to meet the liberator. Amid a “noise of shouting like the noise of the sea in storm." say* an eyewitness, "Garibaldi stepped out of the carriage, as calm as in the day of battle, into a circle of fair ladies and great statesmen on the steps of Staf ford House, while the Duke’s car riage, in which he had come, lit erally fell to pieces in the stable, strained to breaking-point by the weight of the thousands of strong arms that had pulled at it and clung to it as it passed through a city gone mad with joy." And it is well to remember, in spite of what has been said about the Duke of Sutherland and his carriage, the fair ladles *nd great statesmen, that the wonderful re ception that Garibaldi met with was given to him by the plain peoole of England. The working men of England were in the mi 1st of the battle for enfranchisement. They were fighting King Privilege as hard as Garibaldi had been fighting the Bourbons, and now that the hero of Italy, the plain man of the people who had emancipated his country from the tyranny of the Bourbon rule, was actually 1n their midst they were delirious with joy. It was an unexpected privilege to carry one of themselves in tri umph through London streets, as if he had been a Caesar or a Wel lington. It was tile tribute of the democracy of England to the man who. with his good sword, had done so much for the democracy of Italy. It was humanity an swering humanity, justice clasp ing hands with justice, the spirit of liberty In the British Isles shouting its mighty welcome to the lovers of liberty In the his toric peninsula in the great Blue' j Sea. Garibaldi gave England a* much as he received from her. He won all hearts, those of the nobility, as well as those of the yeomanry. Tennyson, with whom he visited, and *moked, and re nted Italian poetry, says of him: “What a noble human being! His manners have a certain divine simplicity .n them, such as I have never witnessed in a native of these islands, among men at least, and they are gentler than those of most young maidens whom I know." While on the Isle of Wight, Garibaldi planted a tree In Ten nyson’s garden, of which later on. the poet wrote as— — "the waving pine which here The warrior of Caprera set, The name that earth will not forget Till earth has rolled her latest year." j