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TRUTH, JUSTICE
An Ameri L
can Citizen
Needs No Titles From
es F
Forei ov nts
gn Government
When, after seven years of fighting, the founders of this country put
fnto force the Declaration of Independence, and established the United
Btates of America, to be an American—a plain American—was enough honor
for any member of the Government.
Washington, had he chosen, could have been made the King of a new
empire. But he preferred to be a democrat, and a democrat he remained
to his dying day, living after his retirement the life of a country gentleman
at his beauntiful estate at Mount Vernon.
During the 140 years since the founding of this country no citizen of it
has accepted a title at the hands of a foreign Government and still retained
his American citizenship. A few Americans, like William Waldorf Astor,
have expatriated themselves in order to receive titles from England, but
their example has never been regarded by Americans as one to follow.
The bill recently introduced by Senator Overman, designed to prevent
any citizen of the United States from accepting any title, present or emolu
ment from any foreign Government is a splendid bill.
It will end the attempt of foreign Governments to win over our citizens
to their service by titles or decorations such as this country does not and will
not confer.
It will keep in the minds of all the people of the world that the title of
American citizenship is the prondest title that any man can boast, and is
worth all the crosses, baronetcies, dukedoms with which aristocracies con
stantly seek to continme in force the idea upon which they are founded.
These are emphatically the days of democracy. More and more has the
democratic idea been growing of late. After the war we believe that all the
countries of the world will be democratized as far as their actual govern
ments are concerned, even if some of the old ferms shall be continued.
It is time, when all the peoples of the world are turning to America for
hope and inspiration, American ideals should be most carefully preserved.
It is because we have no titles or caste that this country has grown to
be the greatest and most powerful in the world.
Here, for a hundred and forty years, every man has had a chance. It
may be that all men are not created equal, as to abilities, but in America at
least all men have been given equal opportunity, and according to how they
used that opportunity they have sncceeded or failed.
Lincoln, one of the greatest of all Americans, came from a log cabin in
Kentucky, and made his way to high office and deathless reputation becanse
the fathers of the country had wisely left the way open, not only to him but
to every citizen of the Republic which they established. Jeffersun Davis, the
great leader of the Confederacy, was perhaps more of an ‘‘aristocrat’’ than
Lincoln, but he would have scorned a title, as would Robert E. Lee also.
Had Lincoln lived, he would at the end of his noble term of service to
his country have retired as did Washington, and become a plain, unassum.
ing citizen, with only a citizen’s share in the Government, just as Davis and
Lee did.
One by one our statesmen have done their appointed work and gone
back to their homes, with no honors save that which all Americans gladly
accord to the man who unselfishly and ably serves his country.
The measure of an American has always been the measure of his serv
ices to his country. America gave him birth and opportunity, and the re
wards that America bestows, although they confer no title or permanent
place, have always been enough for the greatest and the wisest of
citizens.
It is true that Americans have performed, and doubtless will in the fu
ture perform, services of vast value to other countries.
Indeed, there is no great man whose services have not been of benefit to
all civilization.
Shakespeare wrote for America as well as he did for England.
All of our allies, and even our enemies, profited from the invention of the
Wright brothers. It was the invention of an American, Holland, which Ger
many put under the seas to attack our vessels, thus bringing down upon her
Government the war from over the ocean which we are now waging.
But it is not likely that the Germans will ever confer a title upon Hol
land, nor has England given any honor or emolument to the surviving
Wright.
Let us keep the title of American citizenship so proud and high that it
will be enough for any American.
Let us teach our children that nothing is more desirable than plain
American citizenship, and that no place in the whole world is so well worth
striving for as a place in the hearts of his countrymen.
America is prodigal of honors to her deserving sons. She has wealth
and fame to bestow upon all who will work for it.
Her history is short, but its pages are filled with the names of men who
have been rewarded with the nation’s gratitude, and no medal or cross or
rank or title is to be preferred to the gratitude of the one hundred million
people who compose the population of this great and powerful and pro
gressive democracy—the United States of America.
Senator Overman'’s bill is wise and patriotic and American. It deserves
the earnest support of every man in both branches of Congress.
.+ ONCE-OVERS
SUNDAY THE DAY OF WORK.
Why not give your wife a real treat on Sunday, once in a while, by taking
her out to dinner?
Perhaps you have never thought that Sunday is the hardest day in the week
for her.
Why? Because you expect a more elaborate dinner that day. She must take
extra pains in dressing the children for Sabbath School and herself for church,
perhaps waiting on you, if you accompany her,
Even though much work has been done Saturday, in preparation, she must
hustle around immediately after returning from service, and it takes considerable
thought to try to save work in the hottest part of the day.
What relief to feel that after a heipful church service and while the family
are all dressed without extra preparation they may all sit down to a meal in peace
and comfort, cooked by some one who makes it his or her business to do this line of
work.
Husbands cannot realize what a difference it makes in the lives of their wives
who do not keep a maid to be able to get a genuine rest on Sunday.
How long would you men be satisfied with yvour jobs if Sunday were the hardest
day, and if you had to work seven days a week? Think of this a little.
He That Soweth Iniquity Shall Reap Vanity; and the Rod of His Anger Shall Fail.—rroverss, xxu, s
? "’ 4 Py ‘
AI .-A A T e=t b IAN
HER PROTECTION AND PRIDE
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More Truth Than Poetry
The Men of the Hour
Y OU saw them swnging down the street; you heard the swelling
cheers; _
The tramp of myriad marching feet was music to your ears.
And though a lump was in your throat and semething dimmed your
eyes,
You saw the rainbow that was swung across the leaden skies.
And in your heart you felt a thrill to know that once again
Your State was in the vanguard when the nation called for men.
WELL may the land that mothered them be proud of such a
throng;
Well may the crowd burst into cheers to see them march 2°
Serene of soul, and unafraid, with courage proud and high,
They go to war for Liberty beneath an alien sky.
The best and bravest we have bred, they’re marching, file by file,
To look dread Danger in the eyes, and mock him with a smile.
N O Kaiser on his tottering throne had ever men like these,
Who flung their splendid battle line across imperiled seas.
No tryant could inspire such hearts to high heroic deeds,
Or muster such a fighting force to serve his wretched needs.
But always will such men arise, in Freedom’s darkest hour,
And willingly take up their arms, to break the oppressor’s power.
FOR THE HONOR OF THE FAMILY
Perhaps Hiram Johnson will borrow
a little of Walter Johnson's stuff. Just
now there is more control than speed
about that food bill
Wednesday, September 5, 1917
AT LAST!
‘We are glad to note that there is to
be a plebiscite for the Greek throne.
Now perhaps we shall find out what a
plebiscite is.
By
James J. Montague
AND OUT GOES THE PROFIT.
They are now using condensed milk
to make Swiss cheese, which, of
course, will eliminate the holes.
FORT MYER BEING NEXT DOOR
TO WASHINGTON.
The hot wave in Paris brought
great suffering to our troops, except
ing those who came from Fort Myer,
who cabled back home for blankets,
PRETTY TAME COMBAT.
We could get up more interest in
the peace debate between Lloyd
George and Bethmann-Hollweg if the
boys were not debating the same sub
ject in the trenches,
SAFE.
India is going in for cotton and
peanuts, but she can’t raise watermel
ons, so the commercial supremacy of
the South is not seriously imperiled.
PRETTY TOUGH.
A device has been invented which
lights pipes by electricity, but the
boys around the grocery store stove
and in front of the livery stable still
complain about the labor of puffing.
WITH REVERENT APOLOGIES.
If the people of Russia are drunk
with democracy it is too bad some of
the other of our allies can't get a few
kegs of the same kind of tipple.
- |§
Thomas S. Martin of |
.. . ‘
Virginia |
By John Temple Graves.
HE Democratic leader of the
l United States Senate is not
like anybody else in the Senate,
He is a unique individual and ex
ceptionally es- )
fective. He was z,
chosen as leader [ S BHTRO
of the Democratic <<’¢g,’y
Bt s o
majority because o B
they couldn’t find |{SE e L
anybody else in (&,, ‘”
the Senate to fill [ 3 %\f»
that post better— |+ T, %%‘} g
if as well. ,§w % S
There is not a [ i
Democrat In the || S
Senate, or a Re- |B ‘
publican, wh o ?,-@‘ '
would like to see l
him lose his place. ‘\/'\/
Thomas Staples NGNS L 4
Martin, of Char- ”
lottesville, has been TUnited States
Senator from Virginia since March 4,
1895, nearly 23 consecutive years. He
came straight to the Senate from the
ranks, never having held a political
office of any kind before.
He amazed his State by being elect
ed over Fitzhugh IL.ee—the most ge
nial and beloved Virginian of his day
—for the simple reason that he was
the most practical and effective busi
ness man in Virginia polities.
Since that day in 1895 Thomas Mar
tin has been the most powerful man
in Virginia public life, newver having
lost a battle or a cause.
It is amazing how the simple, quiet
man could for so long a time have
dominated the politics of the most il
lustrious and aristocratic Common
wealth of the South. But he has, and
the longer he rules the better he is
trusted and loved, for he is gentle and
genial and diligent and loyal.
There is not a man in the entire
Senate who speaks less or accom
plishes more than Martin. I said to
him yesterday: “I have never heard
you speak rhore than an hour at a
time in your 23 years in thg Senate.”
“You have never heard me speak an
hour,” he replied. “I have never
known the public question on whic¢h I
could not say all I wished to say or
needed to say in less than an hour.”
When the Democratic leader speaks
he is direct, clear-cut, and forceful,
speaking straight to the point in crisp,
clear seniences, spoken in a clear
tenor voice that carries every word
to the far corners of the chamber.
And when he has finished the subject
is exhausted, the whole Democratic
position is made clear, and he sits
down. No rule of the cloture could
ever touch the Senator from Virginia.
This Democratic leader never seeks
the limelight, is absolutely void of
vanity or ostentation, and almost in
variably gets what he wants.
Loyal to his party and his Presi
dent, Senator Martin is steadfastly
loyal to his convictions, and differs
with the President fearlessly, as he
did in opposing the censorship upon
free speech and a free press.
No Commonwealth has a more ef
fective Senator than Thomas Martin,
of Virginia,
Some Neighborhood
Comment
GOOD NEWS.
(Darien Gazette.)
The Atla-ta Georgian is to publish
the Uncle Remus (Joe! Chandler Har
ris) stories. This will be good news
to the children, especially those who
knew and loved the lamented Geor
gian. These stcries wili be worth pre
serving.
POSSIBLY—NOT PROBABLY.
(Augusta Chronicle.) g
However, they may yet be able to
imrrovise a trench which the Rus
sians will not desert.
THE RETURN OF A CHILDHOOD
FRIEND.
(Tifton Gazette.)
A friend of 30 years ago is to come
back to us in frequent visits. We
are to see our children and grand
children enjoy what we ourselves de
rived exquisite pleasura from in child
hood. The announcement that The
Atlanta Georgian has secured the
rights to republish the Uncle Remus
stories brings pleasure to thousanas
of older people as well as delightful
anticipation to the young.
Of course, Mr. Harris’ stories have
been published in book form and those
books are in many Southern house
holds. But in the newspaper the sto
ries will go inte thousands and thou
sands of homes where the book was
never seen, and where, without this
stroke of newspaper enterpfise, the
quaint philosophy of Uncle Remus and
the astonishing adventures of Brer
Rabbit would never have been en
joyed.
The Georgian has done the South
a favor by bringing Mr. Harris back
to the children of today.
PUBLIC SERYICE
“rFolks Who Want to
M Have Real Homes
By Winifred Black.
ER husband wouldn’t give her a
H home, and so the other day,
when they were both in San
Francisco together, the little wom
an sued her husS- osseessseses
band for. divorce. :r e ‘.‘u
“I'd rather die KOO SBL
than live in a; R .“;'2
hotel,” said the JEESEE" < e
little woman. “Of ; RN 0
course, if there | e
was any reason | »,' ‘ t
a barrel or a dry [¢ w; o
goods box, or up l
in a balloon, for i M .
R POy N
that matter — but | & *qul\?*
there's no reason ‘{ZE‘;@E&«*
THGE L
at all. n»wg‘:&
“My husband \Giasussendentiug
just loves a hotel, \‘/—.\i‘;:"
He loves every- 7
thing about it—the porter and the
bell boys, and the hat check boys,
and the girls at the telephone booth,
and the head waiter and the bus
boys, and the manager—why, he even
likes the house detective!
“He’s always sitting downstairs in
the lobby with the house detective,
‘piping them off,’ as he calls it.
“He likes to ring for this and call
down the telephone for that. He loves
to look on the menu card and choose
what he likes to eat in time to the
latest popular rag.
WHAT'S THE USE?
“I hate it all! I hate crowds and
head waliters and ‘Specials Today,
and tips and strangers that stare, and
waiters and elevator boys that are
always hitting for tips—l can’t breathe
in a hotel. My husband knows and
he makes me live there.
“So I''m going to divorce him and
be done with it.”
And she did.
I don't blame her—l don’t biame
her a bit. Any man who’d rather live
permanently in a hotel than lve in
a home doesn’t know the first thing
about a wife or about life or any
thing else.
I'd rather live in a hut with a pot
of red geraniums, in the kitchen win
dow, and a dog on the doorstep and
a cat on the hearth, than to inhabit
the finest suite of apartments in the
finest hotel on earth—there’s some
thing so artificia] about a hotel. I
don’t believe any real woman ever
really liked to live in one for long.
What's the use of going in off of
the street if you've got to take all
the people in with you and eat in the
same room with them and have them
wonder why you bought that hat, and
how on earth you come to wear stripes
when even the bus boy ean tell that
checks are your style?
What's the use of walking to get
up an appetite if you have to go into
a public dining room and try to pre
tend that chicken and roast beef do
not taste exactly alike when they’re
cooked in the average hotel?
Streets—why, the streets are cosy,
cheery, heart-warming, friendly
things compared to the bedrom in the
every-day hotel—and the bathroom,
gleaming like the white plume of
Henry of Navarre. You never can
get away from it. There it is, rough
towels here and smooth ones there.
WHERE DO YOU BELONG?
And the walls with the hotel pic
tures on them! Where on earth do
they get those pictures?
“The Duel"—Tl've sat and waited
for telegrams and looked at that idiot
in “The Duel,” and gazed at his rival
in the peruke and the three-cornered
hat in every hotel in the United States
of America, it seems,
“The Lady With the Fawn"—what
is she weeping about, and why does
she weep into the fawn’s ear?
They buy thém in I~ts, I suppose,
at auction, or something. You never
see those pictures anywhere else on
earth.
Think of the difference between the
finest room in the finest hotel you
know, and the bedroom at Aunt Sally
Gray’s up in the attic, with the piece
work quilt, blue and white, ana a
blue and white rug on the floor, and
Uncle Henry Gray’s picture on the
wall, a trifle cross-eyed, and not par
ticularly amiable—but dear me! he's
home folks, and he has your grand
mother's nose and your mother’'s eye
brows, and you'd rather look at him
than at the handsomest stranger in
the world—that is, if you’re home
folks yourself.
That’s what the woman who got the
divorce in San Francisco was, I guess
—home-folks—poor thing! 1 wonder
where she’ll go and live now that she
has said good-by to her husband and
to the hotel?
I hope she’s in some comfy little
place herself right this minute, mak
ing a cheesecloth bag te put currants
in when she makes jelly—with her
table all set and her biscuits in the
oven, and a big gray crock with a
blue eagle on it full of ginger cookies
in the pantry,
She doesn't belong in the dining
room with pate de foie gras and all
the rest of the la’s. I'm glad she does
not have to stay there any longer for
—whisper—homesickness is a terrible
disease, no matter whether you're
homesick for the city or for the coun
try, or just for the sight of some
thing plain and simple, that is, after
all, nobody’s in the wide, wide world
—but just yours!
