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EDITORIAL RAGE The Atlanta Georgian THE HOME RARER ' THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN Published Every Afternoon Except Sunday By THE GEORGIAN COMPANY At 20 East Alabama Ht.. Atlanta, Ga. Entered as second-class matter at post of fire at Atlanta, under art of March 3. 13.3 Subscription Price—Delivered by carrier. 10 cents a week By mail, $5.00 a year. Payable In Advance. The Stage Mustache Who Makes the “Criminals”? Did This View of It Ever Occur to You? (Copyright, 1913.) Much interest just now in CRIMINALS. Much horror aroused by depravity. Many plans more or less appropriate for making the air pure. Many good men, politicians, women and bishops who spend the summer at the seaside are willing to spend a few days wip ing “CRIME" off the earth. What is CRIME? Who are the CRIMINALS? Who makes the criminals? Do criminals viciously and voluntarily arise among us, eager to lead hunted lives, eager to be jailed at intervals, eager to crawl in the dark, dodge policemen, work in stripes and die in shame? Hardly. Will you kindly and patiently follow the lives, quickly sketched, of a boy and a girl? THE GIRL Born poor, born in hard luck, her father, or mother, or both, victims of long hours, poor fare, bad air and little leisure. As a baby she struggles against fate and manages to live while three or four little brothers and sjsters die and go back to kind earth. I*./ She crawls around the halls of .a {tenement, a good deal in the way. She is hunted here^and ohasLl there. She is cold in winter, ill 1 summer, never well cared for. She gets a little so-calle^’, lotion. Ill-dressed and ashamed beside the other children,,Un Wglad to escape the edu cation. No one at home can Uelyr Oiy No one away from home cares about her. / She grows up white, sickly, iViim, ,>ofeatO,sprouting in a cel lar. At the corner of a fine streetsi|tes the carriages pass ing with other girls in warm fm£, oy in fine, Cool summer dresses. With a poor shawl around lier, witlj Heels run down, she peers in at the restaurant window, tjo see (other women leading lives very different from her*.. 4 V , :il ' Steadily she has impressed up6n her the\fact, absolutely un deniable, that as the world is organized thede is no especial place for her—certainly no comfort for her. / She finds work, perhaps. Houra as long as the daylight. Ten minutes late—half a day’s fine. At the end of the day aching feet, aching back, system ill- fed, not enough earned to live upon honestly—and that prospect stretches ahead farther than her poor eyes can see. "WHAT’S THE CHARGE, OFFICER?’’ “Disorderly conduct, your honor.” There’s the criminal, good men, politicians, women and bishops, that you are hunting so ardently. THE BOY Same story, practically. He plays on the tenement staircase—cuffed off the staircase. He plays ball on the street—cuffed if caught by the police man. He swings on the area railing, trying to exercise his stunted muscles—cuffed again. In burning July, with shirt and trousers on, he goes swim ming in the park fountain—caught and cuffed and handed over to “the society.” A few months in a sort of semi-decent imprisonment, treated in a fashion about equivalent to that endured by the sea turtle turned over on its back in the market. He escapes, to begin the same life once mare. He tries for work. "What do you know?” “I don’t know anything; nobody ever taught me.” He can not even endure the discipline of ten hours' daily shoveling—it takes education to instill discipline, if only the edu cation of the early pick and shovel. He has not been taught anything. He has been turned loose in a city full of temptation. He had no real start to begin with, and no effort was ever made to repair his evil beginning. “WHAT’S THE CHARGE, OFFICER?” “Attempted burglary; pleads guilty.” “Three years in prison, since it is his first offense.” In prison he gets an education. They teach him how to be a good burglar and not get caught. Patiently the State boards him and educates him to be a first-rate criminal. There's your first-rate criminal, Messrs. Bishops, good men, politicians and benevolent women. Dear bishops, noble women, good men and scheming poli ticians, listen to this story: In the South Sea Islands they have for contagious diseases a horror as great as your horror of crime. A man or a woman stricken with a loathsome disease, such as smallpox, is seized, isolated, and the individual sores of the small pox patient are earnestly scraped with sea shells—until the pa tient dies. It hurts the patient a good deal—without ever curing, of course—but it relieves the feelings of the outraged good ones who wield the sea shells. You kind-hearted creatures, hunting “crime” in great cities, are like the South Sea Islanders in their treatment of smallpox. You ardently wield your reforming sea shells and you scrape very earnestly at the sores so well developed. No desire here to decry your earnest efforts. * But if you ever get tired of scraping with sea shells, try vac cination, or, better still, try to take such care of youth, to give such chances and education to the young, as will save them from the least profitable of all careers—CRIME. Rich, good men, nice bishops, comfortable, benevolent ladies, every man and woman in prison, every wretched creature liv ing near a “red light,’’ would gladly change places with any of yon. Scrape away with your sea shells, but try also to give a few more and a few better chances in youth to those whom you now hunt as criminals in their mature years. God cteates boj'S and girls anxious to live decently. YOUR SOCIAL SYSTEM makes criminals and fills jails. It Has an Awful Villainous Effect in the Play. Corm,orants===The Winged Slaves of China How the Followers of Confucius Have Taken Advantage of the Ability of the Bird as a Fisherman. By GARRETT P. SERVISS. r | ■'[IE story of the fishing birds X of China throws light on natural history and human history. These birds are cormo rants, which, by nature, are great fishers, for fish are their favorite food. All went well with the cor morants of China, and they cou- ductrtl thejr piscatorial operations in peace and for their own sole ad vantage, until, to their misfortune, the Idea occurred to the human in habitants of the laud of Confucius, who are not lacking in many small tngenptfies or in a certain' broad philosophy of life, that it would be a good tiling to make the cormo rants fish for them. • From that moment the cormo rant became a slave and joined the great army of serfs, including horses, mules, donkeys and other easily subjected creatures, with which man lias surrounded himself for Ills pleasure and convenience Cormorant Spurred on by Hope He Can Keep Catch for Himself. The cormorant no longer fishes for himself; he fishes for a mas ter. who has more brains than he and who lets him eat just enough to keep him always in good train ing and eager to work. The cor morant, not having much of a brain, is jierpefually misled, when he goes after a fish, by the hope that he will lie allowed to keep it for himself, while his master, hav ing more intelligence, takes care that the poor enslaved bird shall never get quite as much as his ap petite demands. Thus the reced ing hope of a good full dinner and a delicious period of repose after ward, is continually dangled before the stupid cormorant’s eyes. The cormorant is a large, awk- A— GARRETT P. SERVISS. ward bird, with a long bill and ca pable of diving into the water and catching a fish before it can make a move to esoai>e. When lie lias captured a fish lie emerges from the water, and. if he has no mas ter. he flings it up into the air with the skill of a juggler, in such a way that it always comes down head first and passes straight down the bird's throat, without any entan glement of fins. That is the only way in which a cormorant can safely swallow a fish. But the cormorant slave never gets an opportunity to fling his fish up into the air and catch it on the descent unless his master so wills it. The fish is taken from him be fore he can get his feet on anything sufficiently solid to enable him to perform the acrobatic feat that is indispensable to his dining. The fish is seized by the master, and the foolish bird eagerly goes after another one. The best cormorants come from the province of Honan. They are so valuable that a well-trained pair costs about $30. which is a large sum of money in China. A good outfit of fishing cormorants numbers from 'At to 30 birds, and they can earn for their master from $1 to $1.25 a day. Such birds get in exchange for their loss of liberty a i-ertaln kind of eare, which masters always bestow upon useful slaves. If they fall sick they get a dose of oil of sesame which quickly puts them back into work ing condition. They are slaves from childhood —like many unfortuuate human beings. Their training begins al most from birth, and at the age of seven or eight months they are set to work cqtching small fish. For an average of ten years their slavery continues—and then they die. still in chains to superior in telligence. The management of these winged and beaked slaves is very simple. Their master ties a long cord to one of the legs, puts a rattan collar around their necks, just tight enough to prevent them from swal lowing a fish if their hunger should make them unruly, and attaches a bamboo float to the cord so that they can not escape by diving. He also carries a bamboo pole, ten feet long, with which to beat them, and frighten them by slapping the wa ter when they do not perform their task obediently. Reward for Bird Is Fish His Master Cannot Market. Sometimes he places himself near the shore in shallow water, and sometimes governs his fleet of slaves from a curious boat, made by putting a board across two par allel floats, each about three or four feet long. The fishing is done in lakes, quiet streams and ponds. After a good catch has been made the master picks out the lit tle, unmarketable fish and assem bles his flock about him, gives the fish a dexterous turn in the air which causes them to descend head first into the gaping throats. But he keeps all the large, fine fish for himself. The Japanese also employ cor morants for fishing. It is said in Holy Writ that man was given dominion over all the animals of the earth. He has not failed to exercise his privilege, but if the animals were capable of re belling he would have to work harder himself. Lesson of An Old Legend Time—The Human Race Since Its Begin ning Has Waged Hopeless War Against This Relentless Foe. (Intelligent reader*, young and old, will be interested in this old legend prepared for modern reading by Mr. John Edward Geary, of Sy racuse, N. Y. The most interesting thing, perhaps, is the wrestling match between Thor and the old woman, who turns out to be MOTHER TIME. Every one of us wrestles with TIME, only to be defeated In tho end. As you read this article THINK your way through it.) By JOHN EDWARD GEARY T HOR was the son of Odin, father of the divinities of the Scandinavian mythology. Thor was the god dear to the Norse heart; he was the god of beneficent Summer heat; the thun der was his wrath; the gathering of the black clouds was the draw ing down of his angry brows; the flash of fire coming out of heaven beforq the thunder was his all- rending hammer blow. He drives his huge chariot over the moun tain tops; that is the thunder; angry "he blows his red beard”— this is the rustling storm blast before the storm begins. Thor is the god of peaceable in dustry; he is the peasants' friend; he is the true friend and com panion of Thalfl, manual labor. He scorns no work, no matter ha^v lowly; himself engages in all kinds of manual work. The forces of nature in Scandi navian mythology were pictured as intelligent personalities; the good ones, such as the sun, sum mer heat, as gods, and the dark and evil ones, such as frost, sea tempest, as demons. The forces of evil were called Jotuns. The gods lived on high in a place called Asgard, the garden of the divine ones. The Jotuns lived in a dark, distant land of chaos, called Utgard, out garden, Jotun- heim, the home of the Jotuns. In this cold north country a great many of the evil forces were cred ited to frost and cold. The Jotun Hymer's cattle were icebergs; his beard was the hoar frost; the fierce glance of his eye would rend rocks. It was most natural that eternal enmity and strife should exist be tween Thor, the god of summer heat, and the Jotuns, demons of frost and cold. Many were the visits of Thor to Jotunheim, and many were his struggles with the Jotuns. Thor possessed a sword of ex treme keenness. Once on one of his journeys he met a giant Jotun, who laughed at what he consid ered the assumed power of Thor. Thor, Angered, Seized His Sword and Slashed at the Giant. Thor, angered, seized his sword in both hands and cut the giant through the middle. Such was the keenness of the blade the giant did not know that he was injured, the blade leading j a red line of blood where it had cut. The giant started to laugh at Thor and there upon fell in two. Thor must have been the first “Jack the Giant Killer,” a destroyer of demons and their powers. Thor's chief tool and favorite weapon was his mighty hammer. This was made a present to him by his father, Odin, who decreed that he should be a producer, a builder. Thor heard that there was a tournament, games and feats of strength and skill to be held in Jotunheim, and he concluded to at tend and take part. He did not know the way, only the general direction. He had for companions Thalfl and Loke. Loke was the Innate power that dwelt in fire or flame. How sim ple! How primitive! This is some of the history of the working of the human mind in its infancy that has been handed down to us. The wonder that exists in fire or flame we hide behind a chemical name. They pictured it as an in telligent will, capable of self-direc tion from within, the same was credited to all the personalities, both gods and demons of primiitve peoples; the mythology of the Greeks, of the Hindus, and others, as well as the Scandinavian. We know that natural forces act according to a law; given the same conditions they always act the same; that they are not capable of direction from within. Still there is wonder there. Thor and his party went down through a valley and came upon a giant asleep under some trees. Thor, thinking he might be a Jotun, stepped close and cried into the giant's ear; “Can you please tell me the tray to Jotunheim?” The giant did not hear and slept on. Thor said to himself, ‘‘I’ll wake you,” and gave him a tap on the head with his hammer. The giant brushed his head with his hand and murmured, “I think a leaf must have fallen.” This angered Thor, and seizing his great hammer with both hands he brought it down with ail Ms might on the giant's head. The lightning flashed and the thunder roared through the valley. The giant again brushed his head with his hand, saying: “There must be sparrows in this tree; I think one has fallen.” Thor, now ashamed, went on his way and finally arrived at the gate of Utgard, “a gate so high that yon had to strain your neck bending back to see the top of it.” Thor and his companions were admitted. He told of his ambition to engage in the contests. He was told that he might enter the con tests, but to qualify he must first drink a drinking horn dry that was handed to him. Thor Drank Long, But He Scarcely Lowered the Horn Any. Thor drank long and hard three times; he scarcely lowered the horn any. He was laughed ak “You are a weak child; can you lift that cat you see there?” Try as he might he could not lift the cat. * “Why,” they said to him, ‘none of our men would oontest with you, hut there is an old woman here who might wrestle you.” Thor, ashamed, seized the old woman, but try as he might he could not throw her. He was thoroughly ashamed of his performance, and made ready to depart. He was accompanied to the gate of the city by an at tendant, they politely sending the Chief Jotun as escort. Feeling compassion for Thor, he said: “You are beaten; yet feel not so much ashamed, for there was deception in it. You were de ceived by appearances. The giant you saw sleeping in the valley on your way was the earth Jotun Skrymer. You did not succeed in waking him, but look at what you did.” Thor looked and saw a great rent torn in the mountain through which a mighty river was flowing where no water flowed before. ‘‘That drinking horn was the ocean," said the Jotun. “Who could drink the ocean dry? But you did lower the waters along the shore. “The old woman you thought you were wrestling with was Time. "Who can contend with Time? Gods and men, she pre”ails over all. That cat you tried to lift was the great MIDGARD SNAKE, which, tail in mouth, holds up the entire world. Had you succeeded in tearing that up the world would have rushed to destruction.” Thor looked at his attendant. He discovered it was the Jotun Skrymer, who thereupon vanished. Only the Mocking Voice of the Giant Came to His Ears. Utgard, with its sky-high gates, when Thor seized his hammer to smite them, had gone to air. Only the voice of the giant was heard mocking, “Better come no more to Jotunheim.” The great geologists of the last century struck the rocks with their hammers and a great river of knowledge flowed in upon mankind. They changed time—creation was said to be the beginning of time—from being a kitchen clock of six thousand years Into mil lions of years. To those who had implicit faith in the story of creation, as then interpreted from their Bibles, to those for a time, it lowered faith and hope and brought much misery to many. It has come to be the belief of many that “he walks with God,” as Thalfl did of old, who does useful work, and the best gospel is tho gospel of service, ^Help ye one 4 4