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EDITORIAL RAGE 1 HE ATLANTA GEORGIAN the home rarer
THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN
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When Women Will Wear Trou
sers Instead of Skirts
A PROPHECY, Which May Not Come True for Years, but
Will Come to Pass Sooner Than Most Readers
Expect or Even Suspect.
f
The Stream of Life
By LILLIAN LAUFERTY.
T T N KNOWINGLY, unceasingly, still day by day they pass us by—
Those friends whom we sh ill never know—comrades to whom our
spirits cry.
A little child may shyly smile, a stray-haired man may kindly
glance;
But smiling still, they pass the w hile, and life bears on its puppet dance
Perhaps that girl with eyes sea-gray might be a comrade soul to me;
That lad of spirit blithe and gay may hold to friendship's shrine the key.
But still the stream of life flows by-*-flows by to some uncharted sea,
A comrade spirit greets the eye. then sweeps away eternally.
With laggard step or joyful feet, at even,' turn throughout the day
We pass, but we may never meet, for still convention holds her sway.
Brothers and sisters all, they claim—Perhaps, but 'tis a weary while
Since man has dared, unknowing shame, to greet his fellows with u smile.
If there is anything more than another which is absolutely
none of a man's business it is how women dress. That’s HER
business, and hers alone. A man never makes a bigger fool of
himself than when he tries to dictate to a woman how large her
hat shall be, or how short or low cut or scant her gown shall be,
or how many petticoats she may put on or take off.
Women have made their garments and worn them as they
wanted to ever since Eve's time, and no man from Adam down
ever had any potential say about it.
Not but what men have sputtered and spouted whenever a
style has changed. Not but what they have drafted ordinances
and passed laws, and thundered from the pulpit, and blundered
into print about it.
But that was all the good it did. The women followed the
style they chose until they got ready to change it. Man has
grumbled—and footed the bills.
As it is now so it was in tho beginning. The aboriginal cave-
woman, hugging a bearskin to her bare skin, was the envy of
every other cave-woman who did not possess a bearskin of equal
size and furry warmth, and who consequently told her cave-man
what she thought of him—that HE was a poor provider for
HIS family.
Whereat the cave-man answered, saying: “You women think
of nothing but Dress. Do you think I have nothing else to do
except hunt and skin bears for your adornment? I’m a busy
man, killing rabbits to wrap the babies in. My great-grand
mother used to wear fig leaves which she plucked and sewed
herself, and never asked for anything more expensive. Now,
shut up and stop bothering me.”
For there were savages in those days.
There was Just as much criticism of hoopskirts in their day
of fashion as of hobble skirts in this.
Men inveighed against high heels and tight lacing until sen
sible shapes of corsets and shoes came in vogue, then rationally
denounced the new styles as hideous.
They objected to long skirts because they swept up microbes;
to short skirts because they showed too much; to hobble skirts
because they were too close; to split skirts because they were
too open ; to silhouette skirts and to harem skirts as inventions
of Satan. And if no skirts at all were the style they would still
object.
Nor are a woman’s critics altogether of masculine gender.
Her fiercest detractors are of her own sex. These are the reac
tionaries who oppose progressiveness in styles and charge the
inventors with being sirens to lead men astray.
The present signs of the times are unmistakable. What
women evidently are looking forward to and working up to is
NO SKIRTS AT ALL.
IT WILL NOT BE LONG BEFORE WOMEN WILL WEAR
TROUSERS, NOT OF THE SAME PATTERN AS MEN'S, BUT
BIFURCATED GARMENTS TO CLOTHE THE NETHER
LIMBS.
Probably they will first take the form of knee breeches, with
long stockings, and with overskirts or long-skirted coats to be
worn by the aged or the old-fashioned, or at times and seasons
when more warmth and protection is needed.
And who shall say that woman in silken breeches and hose
will not look better, feel better, move with more grace and free
dom, and yet withal be quite as modest as now?
Woman has been unhealthily hampered and weighted with
skirts for thousands of years, particularly so since the dawn of
the Christian era. Skirts were first a badge of vassalage and a
device to keep women from running away from their lords and
masters. Secondly, they have served to conceal the fact that
women walked upon two legs, and so logically become a symbol
of virtue, modesty and domesticity.
But as the younger generations of our girls have been per
mitted more freedom of bodily action, a more liberal education,
with less espionage and chaperonage, special costumes have been
devised with bloomers for basketball and field sports, or divided
skirts for horseback and cycle riding.
And with the broader sweep of outlook by the present gen
eration seeking freedom and equality under the law, and another
generation rising who will account themselves the equal of their
brothers in all respects, we must expect to see a freer style of
women’s garb.
They who insist that women should not have rights of suf
frage will no doubt denounce her emancipation from skirts. But
if votes for women, why not trousers, too?
The Pressure
(See Dorothy Dix’s article in last two columns.)
V*
J\,
Character, Not Riches, Brings Happiness
No Poverty of the Purse Can Ever Make You Poor While You
Have Love, Sympathy and Kindness in Your Heart.
By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX
T
Copyright, 1913, by Star Company.
ryvHK great need of the world
Is to have all classes come
into an intimate understand
ing of one another.
The more we can do to refute
that old statement that “one-half
the world does not know how the
other half lives" the better for
the race.
“Happy as a queen" Is a phrase
often used.
Life of Royalty Far From
Happy; Ask Those
Who Know.
But those who know the intimate
lives of queens and kings know
how far from happy they are.
Study their portraits and It will
reveal much of the melancholy,
the discontent, the selfishness or
the dissatisfaction which pervades
their minds and marks their fea
tures.
King George of England is doubt
less one of the best men, one of
the most kindly and unselfish
kings who ever sat upon a throne.
But he does not look like a real
ly happy man; he looks like a
man conscious of his great obliga
tions, troubled about many things,
and under a continual nervous ten
sion to keep his duties to the na
tion performed. Queen Mary has
the same serious expression, and
one who reads an account of their
doings for a single month wonders
how two not over-robust human be
ings can endure the constant men
tal and physical strain to which
they are subjected.
When we look upon the outside
of palaces and homes of million
aires. when we see the occupants
whizzing by in motor cars, or when
we read of their smart functions,
and jewels and fine linen, we imag
ine they live the life of fairy
princes and princesses.
But when we come to know the
Intimate facts of their lives we
realize that happiness is not a
matter of position, or place, or
honors, or rank—nor of money. It
Is a matter of disposition, of char
acter and of habit, of thought.
Discontented young working-
women often indulge in bitter re
sentment toward the people of
wealth and leisure.
1 wish these young folks might
study the faces and hear the con
versation of hundreds of women in
fashionable homes and at fashion
able resorts.
Restlessness, ennui, dissatisfac
tion and ingratitude distort many
a lovely face and render beautiful
costumes but a mockery.
I do not mean to say that this is
true of all women of wealth.
What I mean to say is just this:
b
As many people in the humble
walks of life, toiling for their daily
bread, find enjoyment as in the
ranks of wealth and fashion.
It is a matter of character and
disposition, not of money. One
who travels to any extent is sure
to arrive at this conclusion.
There is, indeed, greater dissat
isfaction to be read in the faces of
women in a hotel .dining room at
a seashore or mountain resort than
in the faces of women who emerge
from shops and factories at 6
o’clock in any of our large cities.
Yet the majority of these toll
ers regard the woman who can
travel and wear line garments as
favored by the gods.
Wealth Alone Can Never
G-ive Enjoyment or
Happiness.
No woman is favored by the
gods unless she has cultivated
cheerfulness, appreciation, kind
ness and good will and sets forth
each day determined to be happy
and to make happiness for others.
Many a working girl could teach
her wealthier sister how to enjoy
life.
In no home of poverty did I ever
see unhappiness so marked on the
faces of an entire family as on
one I saw at a hotel not many
moons ago.
Dorothy Dix's
Article
~ON~
How Want Forces
a Young Girl from
the Clean Heights
of Virtue Into the
Morass of Vice.
By DOROTHY DIX.
The mother’s eyes were full of
jealousy and ill-temper; the fath
er’s face was defiant and bitter
with disappointment; the son was
a dissipated wreck of manhood,
the daughter a restless, irritable,
fault-finding child of misfortune.
Yet there were millions of dol
lars being spent yearly for the
"enjoyment" of this family.
There was no love, nor harmony,
no good will, no gratitude to God
or man in the hearts of these peo
ple.
Better a crust of bread and a
cup of milk after a day of hard
labor, and love in the household
and hope in the heart, than such
splendid misery.
The poverty of the heart is the
worst poverty on earth. Remem
ber that as you toil and pray for
wealth. .
If you can keep your heart rich
with love, sympathy and kindness,
hope and faith, then whatever you
acquire of worldly wealth will in
crease your opportunities for en
joyment
But wealth alone can n«ver give
you enjoyment or happiness, and
no poverty of the purse can make
you poor while you have these
qualities.
A good disposition is the only
thing worth coveting, and that can
be acquired.
L OOK at the picture that accom
panies this article.
It shows the saddest and
most tragic sight on earth—that of
a young girl being pushed down
from the clean heights of virtue
Into the morass of sin by want.
She is clutching frantically at
every twig of respectability, of
effort, of work that will stay her
progress, but they are not strong
enough to hold the weight put upon
them, and they break in her hand,
and she goes down, down, down
Into the slime of the underworld.
This picture is not the flower of
an artist’s fancy. It is a scene
from real life.
No Amount of Money Will
Turn Any Wanton
Into a Prude.
Poverty is the Don Juan who has
led more girls astray than all the
fascinators combined who have
ever existed. As Becky Sharp said,
it's easy to be virtuous on five
thousand a year. But how about
being virtuous on nothing a year
when you shiver with the cold in
the winter, and perish of the heat
in the summer; when your shoes
are rags on your feet and your
torn frock will not cover you;
when your mother coughs with a
cough that never ceases, and your
little sisters and brothers cry fof
food and your own stomach feels
as if your throat had been cut?
The learned commission that
probed into the subject of the
minimum wage for women deliv
ered itself of the solemn conclusion
that there was no relation between
what a girl earned and her going
in the straight road, and that virtue
wasn’t a matter of money, but of
high moral principle.
It is true that no amount of
money will turn a girl with the
soul of a wanton into a prude. We
read every day in the papers of
millionairesses who tread the prim
rose path simply because it is the
way of their desire. It is also true
that a girl may keep herself pure
In the stress of any temptation,
however great. Tens of thousands
do. Among the unknown and un
sung heroines of the world are
those women who die of want
rather than take plenty that they
must buy at the price of dishonor.
Once a little vaudeville actress
said fiercely to me: “Don’t talk
to me about the good women who
have always had every comfort
and luxury about them. What do
they know about goodness?
They’ve never been tested. I have
kept myself good—and I’ve been so
hungry that the smell of the food
In a restaurant as I passed made
me sick. I’ve been cold and hun
gry, and I knew I had just
to say one word and a rich man
would give me furs and diamonds,
and feast me on terrapin and cham
pagne. I tell you that it's only the
women, such as I am, who know
what it means to be good."
Such women as this one have
courage and great strength. They
can resist, but what of the others,
the girls who are timid and weak,
and who have no hope of better
ing their condition, no outlook for
the future? These girls are not
very clever, they are not very skill
ful or efficient, they have never
even been taught how to do any
one thing well by which to make
a living.
They work such long hours
—and earn so little. They are so
poor, they are hungry and shabby,
and those at home are hungrier
and shabbier still. They are so
young, and they have all of youth's
craving for pleasure.
They would like to go straight.
They would like to keep good.
They would keep as pure and
sweet as your daughter and mine
if they had the chance, but their
poverty is their undoing. Their
need presses them down and down,
farther and farther, until it presses
so many of them over the brink
into the pit.
You think this an exaggeration.
Listen: Here is a letter that 1 got
in this morning’s mail. It is from
a young girl only seventeen years
old. She says that her family Is
desperately poor, that her mother
is a widow, so crippled with rheu
matism that she can no longer go
out to scrub, and that her little
brother is blind. This makes this
girl of seventeen the breadwinner
of the family. A man, a fat, elder
ly man with a house full of chil
dren of his own, not long ago got
this girl a position with the firm
he works for. Now he demands
his pay.
The girl writes, "I am a good
girl. I want to go straight. I feel
that it will kill me with shame If
I don't, but what am I to do? If I
resent this man’s familiarity he
will discharge me, and what will
become of my mother and my lit
tle brother then? It is so hard to
get another place when you lose
the one you have. I am afraid
we will starve. What shall I do?”
That is a real letter, and I get
hundreds of them, just like that,
from girls who are willing to work,
who want to make a^i honest liv
ing and go straight if only the
world will let them.
The Unpardonable Sin Is
Not Paying a Woman
a Living Wage.
Old-fashioned preachers used to
find a favorite text in discoursing
about the unpardonable sin, though
they never agreed upon what it
was. I think the unpardonable sin,
the one thing that God will never
forgive, Is that one which forces
a woman to sell her soul to keep
life in her body. And every one of
us commits that sin who does not
pay our women employees a living
wage.
Look again at this picture of the
girl who is being forced into the
morass of evil by poverty. Per
haps It will open that close fist of
yours and make you give some
ill-paid girl in your office or shop
the dollar or two extra that will
keep her from being driven into
taking the wrong turn of the road.
We can’t fight much, you know,
on an empty stomach. Least of ail,
can we fight the tempter.
The Greatest Mexican
By REV. THOMAS B. GREGORY.
B enito juarez saw the
last of earth forty-one
years ago.
Offhand, perhaps, but few peo
ple outside of Mexico could speak
Intelligently of Juarez, and yet
so high an authority as Hubert
Howe Bancroft pronounces Juarez
“one of the most remarkable
men of any ag e or nation.” A
full-blooded Indian, of the Aztec
strain, he came down out of the
mountains of Oajaca with a
drover while escaping the ill -
treatment of an uncle. He could
not speak a word of Spanish, but
only his native Aztec tongue. He
was a wild waif, less than half
clad, with a bronze skin and
matted hair, eleven years old. A
priest picked him up, washed him,
and had him educated for the
church.
But Juarez preferred the law
to theology, and such as his
genius that in due time he be
came Chief Justice, then Gov
ernor of his native State, and
then President of the Republic.
For four consecutive terms did
he fill the Presidential chair, and
filled it so wisely and well that
the country was redeemed from
chaos and given its first taste of
orderly, righteous government.
The apparition of Benito Juarez
will always remain one of the
profoundest psychological phe
nomena of history. In the words
of Bancroft, “here was a wild In
dian, caught and reclaimed while
young, though carrying always
the imprint of his race in his
dusky skin, the high cheekbone,
the lank hair and piercing black
eye, his intellectual transforma
tion resulting in the profound
statesmanship which founded the
Republic and saved It from inter
nal strife and foreign invasion—
his story seems a miracle akin to
the conversion of St. Paul with
out the attendant light and di
recting voice.”
I