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V i DITORIAL PAGE THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN Atlanta Georgian THE HOME RARER Cntorert an second - Subscription Price Ring Often Enough for the Bartender— AQoodPictureandaQood ldea== By Cartoonist Tad It Is a Very Old Idea, as Tad Says, Bui It Needs Repealing. Think It Over. Hand It to Somebody Who Needs the Picture. (Copyright, 1913) We invited Tad, our distinguished cartoonist, to write his own editorial about his picture on this page, but he said: “I can draw pictures, but I can’t write about them." This picture doesn't need very much "writing about it." It tells you quite simply that the young man who spends his life, or a good deal of it, pushing a bell for the man who brings drinks will also probably spend his life answering a bell that somebody else pushes. For your own sake, remember one thing always— The best man can succeed only IF HE USES HIS BEST ABILITY. The thing most important in this world and most often lack ing is real concentrated effort. There are around you thousands of men not a bit abler than you are, men of your own age, who will be very successful a few years from now. It is for you to decide whether or not you will be envying them their success, or sharing it with them. They have no better chance than you have now. But if they are in bed, resting and getting strength for work next day, while you sit as in this picture, pushing a button, ordering the waiter, THE SLEEPER WILL BE PUSHING THE BUTTON LATER AND YOU WILL BE ANSWERING THE BELL. There are a good many young men who need this picture, and their fathers and mothers are requested to put it where the young men will see it. « « It Common Sense of Battleships The question of an "ample navy" is now before the peo ple in a new light. Apathy and ignorance no longer becloud the issue. The incidents of the last few weeks have made plain and impressive the necessity, for which the Hearst newspapers have earnestly and persistently fought. It is not a question at this moment of war with Japan or any other nation. It is a question of being prepared for any emergency in our national life. No people with intelligence and patriotism can fail to de mand this preparedness. No representations of integrity and loyalty can fail to answer this demand. It has been brought home to every American that our coun try is a part of the great world. That it is subject to the jealousies, the competitions, the wars of nations. If we compose our trouble with Japan to day it may break out to-morrow or next year. If Japan retires as a contestant for the mastery of the Pacific Ocean, there are others to compete. In the fierce activity of overcrowded nations for room to colonize their surplus people, there is perpetual unrest. In the almost arrogant exclusiveness of our Monroe Doc trine there is a perpetual challenge to freedom of movement among other nations. In the possession and power of the Pan ama Canal there is a challenge to the cupidity and commercial aelf-preservation of all great commercial countries. We know this now. We have been brought face to face with war. We know that we are no more or less than other na tions in our exemption from war. We know that the only nation immune from war is England. We also know why England has had no invaders for four hundred years. And so in plain, natural common sense our Congressmen must come to realize that we must have a greater navy. We must have battleships. Not for aggressive war, but for effective defense. As long as other nations build, we must outbuild other nations, because we are better able to* build, and need more to build. When other nations make plain that they are willing for universal peace, we are willing to lead all nations in the move ment for disarmament and arbitration. But it is the first plain patriotic duty of the Sixty-third Con gress to provide for the national defense in battleships that will give us our safe and proper place among nations. H H Nationalizing a Great Reform The woman suffrage move ment can prevail and accom plish its purpose without an amendment to the Federal Constitution. Nevertheless it is good news that the Senate Committee on Woman Suffrage has decided to report favorably on Senator Chamberlain s resolu tion. A joint resolution of the two houses of Congress—submitting to the States the question whether the political equality of women with men ought not to be an article of the organic law of the land —will give the reform a national character and prominence that it can not so readily acquire by any other means. THENCE FORTH IT WILL BE IMPOSSIBLE FOR ANY POLITICAL PARTY TO IGNORE THE ISSUE- WHETHER IN STATE OR NATIONAL ELECTIONS. The case is parallel with that of the election of United States Senators by the people. That movement also would in process of time have prevailed everywhere without an amendment to the Federal Constitution. But the movement was immensely accel erated by the agitation for the amendment. Woman suffrage is not a local issue. It is broadly human and fundamentally democratic. THERE IS NO GOOD REASON WHY SENATORS AND REPRESENTATIVES—EVEN THOSE OPPOSED TO THE RE FORM—SHOULD NOT SUPPORT THE PROPOSED JOINT RESOLUTION AND SO GIVE THE CONSCIENCE AND IN TELLIGENCE OF THE WHOLE COUNTRY A FAIR CHANCE TO PASS UPON THE SUBJECT. And you will spend your life with somebody else ringing for you. ISee Editorial.) The Tragedy of the Ice Cream Cone By HAL C0FFMAN 4 m / f?T5V*Mrt< Elbert Hubbard Writes on Two Men Every man is his own ancestor, lie asserts. We are preparing for the days that come, and we are what we are to-day on account of what lias gone be fore. By ELBERT HUBBARD Copyright. 1913, International News Service. C AME to the stage entrance the other day a man and in quired for me. So I went to the door, and there the man stood in the alley. There was a famil iar, foolish grin on his face. “Don't you know me, Bert?” he said. And I knew him. although 1 hadn’t seen him for full 40 years. When I saw him last he was a totally different individual from this man who stood simpering, leering at me out of watery eyes. His mouth was wabbly, his teeth all gone, save two lone sen tinels one, above and one below. His face was streaked with to bacco. He was bowed, rheumatic, undone. I just looked at him. I forgot to say anything until he aroused me with a second interrogation, “Don’t you know' me, Bert?” “Yes, I know you," I answered, and 1 mentioned his name. An Old School Mate. He was a hundred and fifty years old; yet he was born the same year I was. We grew up to gether until we were 16, when our ways parted. We attended the same classes in the little country school; wrestled each other’s clothes off; played I-spy and anty-over. He was a brilliant fellow; at least, we used to think so. He made a great impression on the girls as he grew up. He had made some money, wasted It, took to booze and patent medicines; set tled down into a mudsock and has just existed. All this 1 knew at a glance, re inforced, possibly, by a few things that I had heard and forgotten, but which now came back to me. 1 gave him a comp and he saw the show. I watched him as he' leaned over the balcony. He didn t understand w'hat I was talking about, but his wabbly mouth worked and his bleared eyes tried to smile me a welcome. After the show he came around again, and this time It cost me a dollar to dispose of him. * I tried to shake off the impres sions of my old-time schoolmate, but I thought of him that night and I cast my eyes around the audience, thinking possibly he might come back. The Other Man. However, as I passed the caloric over the footlights and the giggles gurgled gleefully under the cos mic lee scuppers, straight look ing level into mine eyes was a man I knew—another man—and this man, too, I had known—in my youth, although when I was a boy he was a man grown. For him I had great respect. He had big, fat horses. He was a strong, bronzed, hardworking individual. But he had a fad and the fad was mathematics. My father told me of this. The Treaty of F rankfort By REV. THOMAS B. GREGORY. T HE Franko-Prussian war, in many respects the most re markable in history, came to a close 42 years ago with the Treaty of Frankfort. Never was there another such case of official foolishness as that which precipitated this same war, and never was official foolishness so promptly and so fearfully pun ished. ^ The bloody drama, from its start on August 3. at Saarbruck. moved on with the speed of the tempest and the deliberateness of fate. MacMahon was defeated at VVeisemburg and again at Worth. Frossard was driven from the heights of Spicheren. Then came Gravellotte and Sedan—and the capture of the Emperor and the overthrow of the Empire. Mean while, like the Car of Juggernaut, on went the remorseless German advance. Paris was invested; Strasburg surrendered; Bazaine capitulated at Metz—and the agony w'as practically over. As brave a people as ever lived were sacrificed in order that one man might be permitted to grat ify hie personal whims. In addi tion. there was no preparedness on the pArt of Napoleon's gov ernment. He challenged the most perfect military machine that .the Mathematics. t<» me. at school, w r as a bugaboo. But here w'as a man who knew the arithmetic from cover to cover and he could work any example in it right in his head and do it instantly. He could divide sixteen thou sand tw’o hundred and one by seven and eight-tenths and do it as fast as he could put down the answers. You could write down columns of figures, and when you drew the line across the bottom, fie would write in the total. Hold on Primal Virtues. This man’s name was Christian Ropp. So there he was, white of beard, but clear of eye, intelli gent, smiling, appreciative. Christian Ropp has used his brain. He is a Mennonite. And the Mennonites are people who work with head, hand and heart. Ropp has a firm hold on the primal virtues—industry, economy, good health, right thinking. And so, as I talked, I signaled in wireless that he should come around to the stage entrance aft er the show r , and his ready brain caught the message. When I came off there he was— this man in his eighties. He had a copy of his new book. “Ropp § Ready Calculator”—the latest edi tion—that he had brought for me. He came in and 6at down in my dressing room while I changed my clothes. He told me of hi* book. In mathematics we have worked from the complex to the simple. All of the theories in the old- time school books for working out mathematical problems were cumbrous. complex, difficult, faulty. The business of Christian Ropp has been to comprehend the miracle of numbers. To him it is supremely simple. He loves his work. He has used his brain. His heart is young. His Own Ancestor. And the moral of all this seems to be that every man is his own ancestor. We are preparing for the days that come and w'e are what we are to-day on account of what has gone before. He w'ho puts an enemy in his mouth to steal away his brains will eventually have no brains, for the enemy will do the grand larceny act. and the end is as sure as the laws of mathematics. Nature designed that when we die we should die all over, and the brain should be the last organ to abdicate. It should sit secure and watch every faculty decline— interested, curious, wondering, hungry to know. All life is pleasurable if we live the life of activity tempered by moderation, the life lived by that most able man, bronzed of face, calloused of hand, mathe matician and gentleman, Chris tian Ropp, of Illinois. world had ever, up to that time, seen, and pitched in without or ganization and without anything that approximated a plan or pur pose. It was not war. it was mur der. pure and simple. The sons and grandsons of the men whose martial valor had immortalized itself under the Great Napoiaer were led forth to the slaughter like so many sheep—with nobody to lead them, with no great or ganizing. directing brain to teh them what to do. “Trust in God and keep your powder dry,” said Cromwell. That is what the Germans did, and what the French did not do. The Germans knew exactly what they wanted to accomplish, and were thoroughly prepared; the French knew nothing, and were prepared for nothing. Never w-as there a finer illustration of the fact that war o science, and that its vic tories are largely won by the di rection and leadership of the few at the head. It was an awful humiliation, that Frankfort Treaty, with its dismemberment of the nation and its indemnity of five millards of francs, but it taught France and the world the lesson that in war it is science rather than senti ment that wins battles and cam paigns.