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I bescech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service--ROMANS, XII: 1. ji
TRUTH, JUSTICE
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$640,000,000 for Flying Machines and Some
Things France Might Learn From Us.
Six hundred and forty million dollars for flying machines.
This huge appropriation—more than twice what it cost to build
the Panama Canal-—goes through the Senate and House in a few
minutes.
GOOD, PROMPT ACTION, but—
What is this nation going to GET for the six hundred and
forty millions?
Whose business is it to see that we get as nearly as possible
| six hundred and forty million dollars’ worth of flying machines,
|not one hundred and fifty million dollars’ worth of flying ma
| chines—and the rest profit for Wall Street or other flying ma
chine companies?
Who is going to find what it actually costs to build the kind
of flying machines that we propose to use?
We are told that six hundred and forty million dollars will
pay for twenty-two thousand flying machines. That comes to
about thirty thousand dollars apiece for the machines.
How much better are these machines than the fighting planes
that you can buy in France for about five or six thousand dol
lars, and that travel 150 miles an hour?
How much better are they than the ‘‘extremel» axpensive’’
battleplanes that you buy in France for twenty ;;;,&o:fid dollars
or less? T
The eyes of tens of millions of Americans are filled with a
patriotic light when they hear of these flying machines going
| abroad to fight for democracy.
Other men, some in Washington, some in Wall Street, have
eyes full of a different light when they read about the six hun
d and forty million DOLLARS and think about getting their
s on that amount of money in a single lump.
t alone the President and the Secretary of War—who may
be rel\d upon to do their duty—should watch the spending of
this moley,
CONGRESS, THAT VOTED THE HUNDREDS OF MIL
LIONS, A RESPONSIBLE TO THE PEOPLE.
And ss should know just how it is being spent, what
the separa of the flying machines cost, how much honest
profit and h§ much GRAFT, if any, there is in it.
Governmy ghould do this work under strict control, the
| Government S\plying the steel, buying it at a fair price, the
| builders of theYing machines making 10 per cent profit, NO
“OB.E, and a Mgt addition for patent rights. :
THE RUIN WHISKY WROUGHT SHALL END
There is no reason why any individual or company or in
ventor should charge the United States millions because the
United States is at war. And without the war there would not
exist the fat contracts.
This nation borrowed two thousand million dollars the other
day. It has only five hundred million dollars left. Soon the
Government will take up more than three hundred millions of
‘‘short term notes’’' and then the big two billion loan will be
about gone.
The people will not grudge the money. We are in the war
and have got to pay the bills.
BUT IF THIS MONEY IS NOT WISELY AND CAREFUL.-
LY SPENT, THERE WILL BE TROUBLE FOR SOMEBODY.
And here’s another thing:
In France wheat goes up as in other countries. But the
price of wheat only goes up when THE FRENCH GOVERN.-
MENT GIVES ITS CONSENT. The price is regulated by the
people that eat it—not by gamblers on the Produce Exchange.
The French Government has just authorized raising the
price of wheat to $lO per hundred kilograms—a little over $2 a
bushel.
This increase in wheat makes necessary an increase in the
price of bread, which the Government also regulates IN
FRANCE.
French bakers are allowed to add one cent to the price of a
kilogram of bread, which is about two and a quarter pounds.
France has much to learn from the glorious United States.
Over here we allow the price of wheat to be controlled by gam
blers, and the price of bread to be regulated by those who are
interested in getting all they possibly can out of the people—
and interested in nothing else.
If France were run as the United States is run they would
charge for wheat any price that the gamblers might fix. And
there would be no childish nonsense about adding ONE CENT
to the price of two and a quarter pounds of bread. They would
just add five or ten cents for good measure and wait for a chance
to add more.
France has much to learn from gamblers and food extor
tionists in the United States. And the United States, including
its Government, has something to learn from France.
ATEANTA®B-EORGIAN
Saturday, July 21, 1917
Let Our Boys Have a Chance i.
ID you read about her in
the paper the other day—
the woman who wouldn't
let her son enlist till the recruit
ing sergeant o e e
promised )
her t:at A, .zfj
2 iR
o e [
2 W Y
At he : %
changed his TR
u n derwear ]
when th e } 'E,'"’i",.,:":'=:,;.. A
weather Yy . e
turned cold, [ u:"f» Wi
put on thick |i, = 7
socks when . EHET .
it rained? EaN
Did you S
laugh? 1 e
S s /
did. And < BENEARTS
when I had v
laughed 1 sighed. And if I had
wanted to, I could have shed a
good comfortable tear or two—
Jjust as easy.
For the mother—well, yes, for
the mother, too—but mostly for
the boy.
How on earth do they ever grow
up to be men at all—-these boys
of ours?
We do try so hard to make no
bodies and nothings of them, we
women,
Last summer I was at a house
party with a lot of young people.
And we were all sitting out on
the porch, keeping gay company
with a perfectly gorgeous moon—it
was like nothing in the world but
a great silver lantern, swinging
low in the blue night sky-—and
there were roses in bloom, white
ones that were like the sweet
briars we used to make into
crowns when we were little, and
played fairy queen—and great, big
luscious pink ones, and mysteri
ous musky yellow ones,
And somebody had a big basket
of cherries, and another of plums,
and the prettiest girl had made
fudge, and the plainest girl was
passing It.
The blonde boy was making his
ukelele talk and whisper, and
now and then sob a little—and the
dark boy was strumming the ban
jo, and two visiting strangers
were singing, one in a subdued
tenor that was like the first frag
rance of strawberries when they
come in June, and the other, in
a modulated barytone, that was
like the eream that pours out of
the silver pitcher when the straw
berries are ready to serve.
Something about the song that
somebody wouldn’t translate—"On
By WINIFRED BLACK.
the Beach at Wiki-Tiki,” or
something-—and we were all just
sweet seventeen, not a day older
or younger, from little Miss
Grammar School, in her first
party dress and the blue bow in
her hair, to Grandpa and to me.
There was no such thing as
school or lessons or lawns to
mow, or parlors to dust, or fool
ish stories to write, or checks to
sign anywhere in the world—it
was all just moonlight and roses
and singing-—and smiles—and the
gate clicked, and a woman stood
in the moonlight.
She had a shawl ever her head,
and she held it partly over her
face so we couldn't see who she
was at first. And she called.
“Percy, Per-cee—Percee, So and
So, you go right off of that damp
porch!
“The idea, with that hat off,
and those low shoes—l guess I've
paid enough dentist bills for you
this year.”
And poor Percy stopped sing
ing and stopped laughing and
stopped eating fudge and threw
away his handful of cherries, and
saild “Goodnight” to the Most
Beautiful Girl in the World, and
sneaked off home, behind the
woman who called.
1 lay awake a long time that
night—listening.
I couldn't help wondering
whether something wasn't going
% to happen to Mother or to Percy
after everybody else had gone to
bed, when they had a chance to
talk things over.
Poor Percy—some day that
mother of his will want to lean
on him—and there will be nothing
to lean on—and she'll wonder,
and cry, and blame Percy.
And it's all her own fault,
every bit,
I know a woman who's taken
her boy out of school three times
and moved to a new district be
cause the boys called him “Mam
ma's Darling,” and wouldn't let
him keep his hair smooth.
He ran away the other day—did
Mamma's Darling—l hope he'll
stay away, poor child, and get a
chance to grow up into something
like a man,
It isn't always the mother who
makes poor Percy and his kind
wish they were dead, either.
I know an awfully sweet little
woman who goes to the office
where a man I know works every
Saturday and draws his pay for
him, and doles him out his spend
ing money with the cutest little
smile in the world. She's saving
to buy a home, she says. And
dear Bertie is so generous and
extravagant!
PUBILIC SERYICE
' Why I Want to Fight in France
T is to be deeply regretted by
l the gallant sons of Dixie that
there is heard nere and there
a voice of opposition to the plan
of landing soldiers on French soil
to do battle against that arch
enemy of civilized humanity, the
Kaiser.
I am a private in Company A, of
the Seventh Engineering Regi
ment, National Army, stationed
at Atlanta. I am glad to give
myself to the service of my coun
try, thereby helping France,
America’'s best European friend.
Owing to a slight physical defi
ciency, 1 was rejected for the
army, marine corps and the navy,
but, thanks to the nobility of
Captain Cooper, of the Seventh
Engineering Regiment Medical
Corps, I am permitted to don the
honorable uniform of my country
and to do service wherever
needed.
How any man, with a spark of
manhood in his breast, can fail
to respond to our President’s call
to fight CGermany ig to me inex
plicable.
Germany has sunk our ships,
killing innocent men and women
and helpless babes. German plot
ters have destroyed our industrial
plants, thereby murdering hun
dreds of poor working people. Ger
many’'s heinous atrocittes have
covered the face of Europe with
blood and tears, throwing the
mantle of shame over the cheeks
of the devil. For one lam will
ing to dispute with gun or sword
Germany's hellish argument of
murderous force!
An honorabie sens 2 of gratitude
ought to make us willing to help
France win this war against Ger
many. When I think of that
grand Frenchman, Lafayette, who
left a young wife and child, a
home of luxury, noble lords and
ladies, the splendor of a royal
court-—he left all of this to come
across the broad ocean to fight
for a small colony of 8,000,000
farmers and fishermen against
England who had more than 11,-
000,000 population; when I read
of how he spent his own fortune
to buy food, clothing and sup
plies for the destitute soldiers of
By JOHN M. MORRIS.
the little colony who was strug
gling heroically for independ
ence; when I read his ardent ap
peals to the French royalty for
soldiers and supplies to help the
poor but brave colony which aft
erward became the United States
of America; when I read of how
supplies, ships and more than
5,000 soldiers were sent to our
succor; when I read of the he
roic sons of France, Rochambeau,
de Grasse, d'Abouville, Viome
&nil, who risked their lives in a
war for our freedom—l am ready,
willing, eager to show my grati
tude by going to the bloody flelds,
there to do and, if necessary, to
die for French liberty. {
A long, last, fond farewell to
the hundreds of friends whom I
have met and loved while a stu
dent and teacher in Georgia
schools.
“Here's a sigh for those who love
me,
’ And a smile for those who hate;
| Whatever skies above me,
| Here's a heart for any fate.”
l I shall consider it ar honor to
be buried among millions of brave
soldiers on a French battlefield
which has been sanctified by their
heroic battles for human rights.
I want this for my epitaph:
“We come into this world, all
naked and bare—
We go through this world filled
with joy and care—
We go out of this world to we
know not where;
But,if we're good here we'll be
happy there!”
fl Shafts of Sunshine ”
Soldiers for Europe must take
training. Reltm.ln .the untrained.
-
Columbia to La Belle France—
“Certainement, Michel, we'll come
across.”
v e §
The war's most frightful cas
ualty list—Roosevelt's army is re
duced by investigation from 180,
000 to 871:
. L *
Zeppelisn drop bombs on Eng
land, but Englishmen who have
flown over Germany dropped their
H's frightfully,