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4 THE GEORGIAN'S NEWS BRIEFS. Children and Their Influence By JERE K. COOKE. (It may be asked why I, of all men, should write upon questions affecting marriage and other re lations. In reply, I would say that one who has gone through what I have, suffered as much as I have, and seen so much of the world and it's hard side, may possibly have something to say that will be of use to others. / hope so, at least.—JURE K. COOKE.) A N elevator apartment, a poodle dog and a married couple. The man is a grouch—the woman unnappy and the poodle dog is the recipient of their affection, caresses and consideration. But this Is not a home! The home is an elevatorless flat. It has no dog. but the companions of the man and the woman ara a group of happy, curly-headed chil dren whose ages suggest a pair of stairs. These are the joys of living. The hapr*” voices, the running feet and the childish play, literally fill a home with sunshine and content. It is said that most men of the criminal class are single men. The home life and love are so firmly grip ped upon a married man’s heart that he will hesitate long before he will bring his trustful wife and innocent children into the disgrace of his mis conduct. The curly-haired baby that lifts its chubby hands to be taken into his father’s arms is a strong deter rent to wrongdoing. No happier wel come can come to a hard-working man than to be met at the gate at the end of the day by a smiling, home- loving wife with a squad of children clinging to her skirts. It takes the tiredness all out of his bones. A Life Story. Children hold a man and wife to gether. I once knew a man who had apparently everything that heart could desire—a beautiful home, a charming wife, a fine position, and was well-liked by a host of friends. Only one thing was lacking. Of their union there was no off spring. He seemed happy, but there were times when the evening hour ap proached he had an undefined long ing for something. After a while the twilight hour, or in other homes "the children’s hour,” became a lone some void to him. He would go down the street to the club, or anywhere to get away from himself. IAttle by little the husband and wife drifted apart. She was angry at first that he sought pleasure away from her so ciety, and then she got so she did not care. Had she only had one dear lit tle curly headed toddler at her side to hold out chubby arms in unison with hers, how different It might have been. Another came into her life who did not go to the club. The husband had an opportunity to make a lot of money by speculation. It was very risky, but he took the chance. If the dear little baby eyes had looked into his that morning, would he have risked his all? He lost! His wife, who had grown not to care, turned from him. They separated, and he, poor fellow, is working alone to win back something of all he had lost. Two Stars. There are two bright stars in the crown of womanhood—one is to be a wife of absolute fidelity, the other is to become the mother of a contented family. Men seldom complain of the size of their households. Each little stran ger brings its own welcome, no mat ter how undesirable they were thought to be. The children, too, seem :o thrive just as well wearing the older children’s outgrown clothes and ire as robust under the limitations of a large family as though the mouths to feed were few. The “only sons” are generally spoiled, and in after life go wrong. I once heard a fine specimen of a man remark: ”1 was one of a family of nine and was 11 years old before I knew a chicken had anything but a gizzard and a neck!” If a man is naturally morally weak, his family do more to keep him straight than all else combined. It also goes a long way in making his penalty merciful rather than harsh if he does not keep within the law. One of the most pathetic sights I ever saw was a young husband up for sentence in San Francisco and headed for San Quentin. Just before his doom was pronounced his wife, fragile and wan, came into the court room with her cooing infant in her arms. She went right up to the manacled prisoner and kissed him. The child reached out for its father and the picture that little family presented was enough to turn the heart of any judge. Did his honor have mercy on him? No! But he had mercy on the faithful wife, who “for worse” rather than “for better” was yoked up to her mate. He had mercy, too, on their inno cent, helpless, crooning baby, whose after life would be so conditioned by the shackles on its father’s wrists and by the stripes its father wore. Women’s Boons. Marriage and maternity are the boons of women. Being a benedict is the boon for man, and children bring the benediction. “A little child shall lead them,” so the Bible says, and is the “blessed tie that binds.” Woe to the wife who has had her chance to have her baby and missed it. The ghost of that unborn child will toddle into her heart on lonely nights, and the feeble cry for its mother will bring anguish to her soul. 1 know a woman in such a plight— I know r nothing more desolate than a lonely woman who has not known the joy of motherhood. It would be better, infinitely better, for a mother to place the flowers that represent her affection on the grave of her little lost loved one than as a lonely wife to hear the ghostly voice of an un born child calling her when it is too late, in her desolation and despair. H E felt to happy that he wanted to take the whole world into his arms. Last night happi ness had come to him, wonderful, in describable happiness, surpassing all belief, showering upon him all its* blessings, wrapping him in such a splendor of light that he was almost dazzled by its brightness. He had met with his first success as a poet and playwright. For the first time he had felt the intoxicating charm of the storming, roaring ap plause of the hundred-headed audi ence. Yes, life is beautiful, especially when you are young and strong and full of passionate longings and de sires. Then it is quite impossible to stay inside the close, stuffy rooms*; then you must rush out into the streets and look into the eyes and souls of other people. So he took his young fame out for a walk, confident that his new friend. Fortune, would give him a new proof of her benevolence, a proof which, of course, should be connected with some young and lovely maiden. And there were maidens enough in the streets for It was the month of May, the month of longings and de sires for love. But, strangely enough, he was not attracted by any of these fair, straight, slender beauties, though yes terday he admired them one and all. But to-day it must be something quite different, nothing less than a fairy princess, a woman who perhaps exists only in the dreams of a poet and not in reality. If he could only find a woman like that he knew that he had it in him to become the greatest poet the world had ever known. Suddenly the young poet stopped as if hypnotized, for on the other side of the street she was coming toward him —the fairy princess of his fairest dreams, a vision of feminine beauty, grace and strength. The blood began to rut'h through his veins and he re mained where he stood, rooted to th« spot. Then he picked up all his courage, an 1 a moment later he was at her side. “Forgive my audacity, but ” The young girl looked at him, not encouragingly, and still not reproach fully, with a strange, helpless ex pression In her eyes and an embar rassed movement of her hands. The young man still mumbled a few com monplace compliments, but no sign of underetanding came into the young lady's eyes. Her very features and figure ought to have told him that she was no German, but undoubtedly a Parisienne, charming, chic and graceful as she was. It was too stupid that he had not seen that at first glance. Thank God, he knew her language. He ad dressed her in French. She smiled, a faint, pitiful smile, and shrugged her shoulders to indi cate that she had not understood him. The young man did not know what to do. Then she was no Frenchwom an either. What might she be, then? Perhaps an Englishwoman. Bu.t he ridiculed the thought when he re membered the lanky, angular daugh ters of Albion that he had seen. The idea was absurd. Should she be a Russian? If so, he was lost, for na did not know a single word of Rus sian. But suddenly he heard her address him in his own native tongue: “Don’t try to find any more subjects of conversation, for I should not un derstand you. If you want anything, you will have to say it very loudly into my ear, for I am almost deaf. ’ So that was why. The young man was dumfounded. All his confidence of victory had left him and he felt something he had never known be fore. Then he collected his wits. What was he to do? Should he shout his wish into her ear? No; that would never do. What he had to tell ner could be told only in the softest whis per, and, silent and discouraged, he walked along at her side. The streets with their crowds and noises lay far behind them and the mighty trees of the Tiergarten formed a green dome over their heads. Then he looked at her deeply and tenderly, with eyes so full of fervent, passion ate adoration that it ran like red-hot lava through her young body. And now she smiled, a tender, hap py smile and, trembling with delight, her lips whispered: “Yes, I under stand you.” Hand in hand they walked back to the city. Not Slow. A reverend gentleman was address ing a school class recently, and was trying to enforce the doctrine that the hearts of the little ones were sin ful and needed regulating. Taking out bis watch and holding It up he said: “Now, here is my watch; suppose it doesn’t keep good time—now goes too fast, and now goes slow. What shall I do with it?” "Sell it!” shouted a small young ster. Our Jap Brother By BERTON BRALEY. (With the Usual Apologies.) r lflS talk of our “Japanese brother" lias rather got under my skin, For taking one thing with another I do not consider him kin. I freely confess 1 don’t love him, However his virtues may shine. He may be a brother of William J. Bryan, But he ain't no brother of mine! 1 think he's a fraud and a shammer For all of his courteous ways, And I'll just add my voice to the “clamor The ignorant populace raise.” I don’t like the Japanese coolie (I'm narrow, of course, you opine). He may be a brother of William J. Bryan, But he ain’t no brother of mine! He may be all right out in Nippon, And that's where I want him to stay, I don’t like his getting his grip on The. soil of the old U. S. A. I don’t like his ways or his morals, His creed or his facial design. He may be a brother of William J. Bryan, But he ain’t no brother of mine! Precociousness in Love By BE \TRICE FAIRFAX. “Prccociousness in love-mak ing is a great mistake. It pre vents the enjoyment of youthful years, which should be free from anxiety, and leads to entangle ments and hasty attachments, which cause much distress.” H. J. HARDY. W HEN a girl is between 12 and 16 she looks so much like a large-sized doll that those of the other sex treat her as such, taking into no account that in her little body there is a heart with a ca pacity for suffering greater than any woman’s, and a soul that is like an untried instrument, waiting for th» master's hand to strike the chords. If he strikes it gently, evoking a melody that is sweet and pure, that melody becomes the keynote of he' - existence. If, thinking only of his own brutal passions, he strikes chords that should lie dormant, he wrecks the in strument and ruins her life. If all the men, young and old, would only Stop, Look and Listen, what a tale of tragedies might remain untold! If they confined their love-making to women grown; if they observed in love the Golden Rule in sport, to fight only with those their own size, there would not be so many mothers and fathers weeping over premature graves to-day! A Chance for Evil. “The heart of a girl is the home of dreams.” In her dreams the man who comes to her with a story of love is brave and noble and good and true. Her father has never deceived her; her mother is the spirit of truth; her friends are loyal; she doesn’t know what deceit means. She is trusted, and she trusts. She has always be lieved what others tell her; how nat ural that she continues to believe when some dream hero assumes real ity! The trust and innocence of youth, which should be a bulwark of de fence, becomes the drawbridge by which the enemy enters and takes possession. • An effort is making all over the civ ilized world to protect young girls with the armor of Knowledge. A good thing, but not enough. So long as there are young girls in the world there will be hearts with a woman’s longing for love, accompanied by brains with only a child’s capacity for reasoning. It is not enough to appeal to the girl; an appeal should be made to the man. No Excuse. Let him Stop, Look and Listen. Somewhere in the world every day some young girl who has made the discovery that her lover has been playing with her as if she were in reality the doll s-he resembles writes a tragic little note of good-bye to moth er and lover, and ends her life. He was amusing himself. She wasn’t. To girls of this age iove js real and awful. Perhaps he meant no harm. Per haps he committed no greater sin against the girl than to make love to her. But this will not lighten the weight on his conscience when she is driven to a desperate deed. Youth Is hopeful, but not as hopeful as it is morbid. Her little heart is broken, and since she can not touch his heart living, she finds consolation jn the thought that her death will. It is a period of insanity that comes to ail girls whose hearts are awakened before their brains are matured, a most dangerous period, and one which all men, young and old, should be warned against. If they must make love, let them observe the golden rule of all sport, and select someone their own size and age. A Woman Builder T HE astonishing manner in which women of to-day are invading the fields of employment which a few years ago were considered the sole prerogatives of man is once more strikingly illustrated by the remark able achievements of Miss Alice Dur kin, New York’s only master builder, who employs over 700 men, and who competes with the contractors of this city for skyscraping contracts. For four years Miss Durkin has been numbered among the master builders of the city, and in that time »he ha9 erected buildings to the value of $2,- 000,000. She is the first and only woman member of the Building Trades Association of New York. Her career is a veritable romance of Industry. The daughter of a wealthy man who lost his money, she took a post when quite a young girl in the office of a leading New York builder fourteen years ago. Business Qualities. “I took a keen intere^ in the work,” said Miss Durkin to a newspaper in terviewer, “and I seized every oppor tunity of talking to carpenters, ma sons and plumbers, and learned a lot from them about materials. labor, construction and other things which have to be considered by the con tractor. I attended classes at night and studied continually, and after I had been In the office a year I asked permission to figure on some altera tions in a school contract. Afterward my employer began to secure con tracts on figures I had prepared. Of course, it has been hard work, and there have been many details to over come; but it has been very enjoyable. A knowledge of mathematics, a clear head and a great deal of tact are needed in this business.” It might have been thought that the contractors of New York would have looked with disfavor on Miss Durkin’s invasion of their trade; but, as a mat ter of fact, they have acted in a most kindly and friendly way toward her. “In fact,” she sayi. ‘they have been particularly courteous to me, because I am a woman competing with them on equal grounds.” A Remarkable Sight. Public schools, nurses’ homes and institutes are among the buildings which Miss Durkin has constructed, and it is a notable fact that shortly after she started business for herself she competed against eleven leading contractors for the New York Public Library in which over $10,000,000 was represented, and stoe only lost by a hair’s breadth. She has also built one or two Broadway skyscrapers. Miss Durkin superintends every de tail of her business, and it is a re markable sight to see this dainty, charming member of the fair *ex threading her way through scaffold ing and piles of bricks and mortar, directing gangs of men during build ing operations.