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1 TRUTH, JUSTICE +
[ “I sincerely join you in abjuring all political connection with ‘
every foreign power.” |
—THOMAS JEFFERSON TO T. LOMAX, MARCH, 1799,
it L e
The Big Reunion and Those
Atlantans Who Saw It Through
HERE is glory enough for all, and to
T spare, The Georgian thinks, in the
matter of the great Confederate Re
union just passed into history.
Atlanta did herself proud; the city rose
splendidly to every demand of hospitality
placed upon it in this regard. The welcome
the visitors rgceived was truly royal and
worthy of the Capital City of Georgia. Noth
ing that mind and heart could suggest was
left undone that might in any manner add to
the joy and pleasure of the gathering. Every
old soldier was given to understand that this
good city was for the time being HIS town—
his very own, to do with as he liked.
Undoubtedly and inevitably there was
some little confusion and erossing of good
purposes here and there. When the clans
first began to gather there was a little diffi
culty in distributing our guests properly. It
is hard for a community to realize fully in
advance just what these gatherings annually
are, and that despite all that the newspapers
and committee chairmen may say. Once
Atlanta did realize the duty of the immedi
diately pressing moment, however, Atlanta
rose, as she always has and ever will, to the
full performance of it. And then the big
rain on Wednesday! We had hoped for
kindlier treatment from the weather man;
nevertheless, this served to show again just
how warm Atlanta’s heart is when emer
gency arises. Never was any crisis in a big
affair met with more loyal action than was
that.
In ninety-nine one hundredths of the pro
gram visualized and performed, the reunion
was an instapntaneous and continuing success,
and the few things that did arise to fret and
vex were solved happily and speedily, as is
Atlanta's way.
It is not possible to distribute among the
many that helped the praise deserved, in de
tailed measure.
It looked as if every Atlantan had made
himself a committee of one on happiness
and good cheer, so generous and hearty was
the spirit of hospitality and welcome
everywhere.
But first and foremost praise for all time
will attach to Walter Andrews, we think .
It was Mr. Andrews who brought the re
union here, and it was Mr. Andrews who
took upon himself the heavy burden of pri
mary responsibility.
And inasmuch as he, with rare executive
ability and hearty willingness to serve, car
ried the bulk of the burden throughout, so
he will be freely accorded first place upon
that roll of honor carrying the names of
those who served with so much fidelity, loy
alty and patriotism, It was a job for a full
grown man, this carrying forward of the re
union to unchallenged success. And, looking
backward now, it is gratifying to Atlanta to
feel and know that the work was placed in a
man’s hands gnd executed in a manly way.
Atlanta never will forget the splendid
work Mr. G. F. Willis did in taking over the
financing of the reunion. That was a stu
pendous undertaking. In the earlier stages
of the campaign the task required much pa
tience, and it also absorbed much time-—and
Mr. Willis is a busy man, if there is one in
Atlanta. However, he pressed this to splen
did sucecess, and never did he falter until the
desired goal had been reached.
John Ashley Jones, who took over the
work of the Sons of the Confederacy on be
half of the local chapter and thus was
charged with first responsibility in this mat
ter, quit his other work and for weeks de
voted himself wholly and untiringly to the
task of making that portion of the program
work out to success. The results he obtained
speak for themselves. He filled magnificently
his place in the great triumvirate that saw
the reunion through.
To those citizens-in-the-making, those
loyal young Atlantans, those tireless work
ers for the public good, the Boy Scouts, The
Georgian gives praise and thanks in the
name of an appreciative city.
Nothing in the week of the great Confed
erate Reunion has stood out so brilliantly as
the work of these voungsters, trained to serve
for the love of service, who have given their
days and their nights to labor for the veter
ans who were Atlanta’s guests.
From the first arrival of the old soldiers,
when the Secouts served as a reception eom
_ mittee and guided them to homes and camp,
Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.—Gal. VI :7— TEXT TODAY BY BRIGADIER C. W. CRAWFORD, SALVATION ARMY.
; 4 . ‘ e ~
SATURDAY—AI '.A ‘ N B U-"l,'ll“,‘fl g-—,-u"_;.nrs H_EIAN—OCT 11, 1919
found ears for them, helped carry their bag
gage, and in many instances found stray vis
itors and took them safely to shelter, through
the stirring days that followed, the Boy
Scouts have Feen ‘“‘on the job,”’ in the ex
pressive language of the streets. But their
greatest work of all ecame in the great
est crisis—the cloudburst that flooded
the veterans’ camp at Piedmont Park.
There were but a few Seouts on duty at
the park that afternoon, for the greatest part
of the work had been done; but that hand
ful, instead of seeking shelter for themselves,
set out to exemplify the watechword of the
Scouts’ organization—service. They joined
together and carried aged soldiers through
the new-formed ponds to higher and dryer
ground. They found tools where they could
and began the ditching which carried off the
water. They sought out hundreds of homes
for the old men whose tents had been water
soaked, brought automobiles to the park to
carry the veterans to the homes thrown open
to them. There was no task too diffieult for
these youngsters to undertake, and what
they tried to do they did!
The Boy Scout asks no reward nor accepts
one. But the reward will come to him, nev
ertheless, in the training he is receiving for
the future. No one who has watched the
marvelous efficiency of one of these boys in
khaki, whether he is ‘‘carrying the message
to Garcia’’ or straightening out the tangles
in congested traffic with all the authority
and ability of a policeman, can doubt that
the Boy Scout, grown to manhood, will be
well equipped for success in whatever career
he may choose, for he will have iearned two
of the great things in life—to direct and in
spire others, and to control himself under any
situation which may confront him.
To ALL the splendid men and women who
helped in this great reunion work Atlanta
will render grateful and cordial acknowl
edgement,
Atlanta may look back today with pride
and satisfaction upon the events of the past
four days.
The Georgian trusts the veterans will
carry away as pleasant and happy recollee
tion of Atlanta as Atlanta ever will hold and
cherish of them. 2
MAKE YOUR TEETH
SAVE YOUR MONEY
OUR teeth probably have cost you a
l lot of money. Nearly every adult
has gold, silver or other precious
metal stowed away in his teeth. Many have
had to buy their teeth outright.
Your teeth represent an investment a
thousandfold more valuable than the amount
ot the dentist bill. They are your investment
Al UCdaiaa,
But what is perhaps more timely right now
is that they can be made big factors in
cutting the cost of living.
Read what Fletcher says about chewing
obtaining the maximum nourishment from a
food. Learn what Dr. Wiley has written about
given article of diet.
You will find that you would be able to
get along on about half as much food as yvou
use every day, if you would chew it slowly
and thoroughly.
The human body runs on its food, just as
the engine runs on coal or gasoline, If you
shove coal full of clinkers into the engine,
&ou will not get results. The clinkers would
not burn and produce heat. ‘
Putting unchewed material into the hu
man stomach is feeding.it food clinkers.
In order to be abserbed, food must be in
solution—broken into tiny bits and suspend
ed in digestive juices.
You protest vociferously when you pay a
dollar for steak that you think ought to cost
fifty cents. You are getting only half the
value of your money. But you will get near
ér a dollar’s worth of nourishment out of it
if you will only put your teeth to work.
We do everything fast. We rant if the
train is late. We rush to work, rush through
our tasks, rush home, eat hurriedly, rush to
the theater, rush back to bed and wind the
alarm clock so as not to be late for the morn
ing rush next day.
We have the national rush habit, and no
where will it do us more harm than in bolting
what we eat. .
Aside from the physical harm occasioned
by gobbling our lunches on the run, we cheat
~ ourselves out of hard-earned money.
A dollar’s worth of food, thoroughly di
gested and absorbed by the tissues, will give
more strength at less tax on the body than
two dollars’ worth improperly masticated.
Put vour teeth to work.
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A Discontented Woman
By Winifred Black.
HE'S bored to death with her -
S husband.
Oh, just naturally bored to
death.
He's P T
husband is—jus 5 RS
as good as gol( b “ g
~—and he's sim- - Gl
ply crazy about] bt S 8
her. And as for ;
the little girl, he |
just fairly makes Oy s
an idol of her. | AR wl
They live on a{4 ra% t
ranch in Mon- § ;.Q\ o
tana and every ] JOEMEE
time husband ‘\,‘ik* s :'_.s};
goes to town hel L CEoE
brings homel@” i Fo
something puret- \SEEaNEREOUN
ty for the little "GRG fi_’/ .
girl, and somé
thing fluffy for the little wife,
“Girlie,” he calls her, and she
hates the name, she thinks it's so
silly and kind of “country” to call
her that. And she wishes he
wouldn't, But she's always wishing
he wouldn't about everything he
does.
He's 80 sentimental—always
picking flowers and wanting her
to press them and remember who
gave them to her, and when and
what he said and all that ridicu
lous nonsense,
Birthdays, Easter, anniversartes,
Christmas—oh, he makes the most
awful time about them all! Writes
funny little poems, don’t you know,
and dedicates them to her. And
this is the worst, really—she can
hardly stend this at all--he asks
friends to dinner, and reads them
aloud—the poems-—and she thinks
the friends just pretend to like
them and laugh and make fun of
them after they've gone and are on
the way home.
It's really a terrible ordeal to live
with him, he's so poky and slow
and so contented. That's the worst
of it, he's perfectly contented and
he isn't even ashamed to say so.
NEVER, NEVER AGAIN.
She’'s discontented, bitterly dis
contented, and a while ago she was
ill, very ill indeed, and the doctor
told her she would have to go away
and so she did, and now she's liv
ing in the city and having a love
ly time motoring and going to the
beaches, and having movie parties
and roof garden suppers. No,
AT THE PLACE OF DECISION |
there's ' nothing wrong about her,
nothing in the least wrong, only
she just simply will not go back
home and be bored to death with
‘husband again, Never, never again.
And husband writes and tele
graphs, and the other day he came
to the city and tried to beg her to
go home wita him,
He told her how tall the lilies
were in the old fashioned garden
he has made around the ranch
house, and how cool it is in the
evening in the shade of the rus
tling cottonwood trees—what/ a
time he did have to get those cot
tonwoods to grow! And the little
girl; he dressed the little girl him
self on the train and there seemed
to be something wrong with her
sash, and her hair wasn't curled
just right. But the little woman
was glad to see the little girl and
hugged her very tight, and cried
ana laughed all at once.
But she would not go home with
husband, though she did cry very
hard when she kigsed the little girl
good-by,
And now she’s asking her friends
whether they think she has done
very, very wrong, and what they
believe it 18 her duty to do now.
“I'M AWFULLY AFRAID.”
Poor little thing, I'm sorry for
her, very sorry.
I'm sorry because she's bored
and lonely and nervous, and be
cause she doesn't love her husband,
but I'm a good deal sorrier for her
when I think of the future she is
bullding for herself.
It's all very nice for these friends
of hers in towh to take her to din
ner and driving and all that sort of
thing and watch her blue eyes
grow big and exclted.
But when her husband divorces
her—as I think he will, unless she
goes home-—she won't have such
pretty clothes andg she’ll have to
do something for a living and she
won't be such good company, and
I'm afraid, I'm awfully afraid, she
will find + that. her new friends
won't last very long.
And then, husband will be mar
ried to some one else and she can
never see the little girl any more.
And I'm afrald she will be even
more bored then than she is now.
I wonder what you think about it,
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R I S AN
Dear K. C. B—l wish very much to ask you a question. I,am a
girl, 23 years of age, and can not find words to tell you how terribly
homely I am, both of face and figure. I have quite the homeliest face
that has yet been seen, you may be sure of that.
“ I have a very good position and am supposed to have brains, but
how gladly 1 would exchange them for a small portion of the beauty
of the countless sapheads who dally cross my path. Sometimes, when
I catch my reflection -in the mirror, the horror of it almost overwhelms
me and I feel that I can not go on. I know it hurts the other girls in
the office to look at me.
© Now, the question 1s this: Do you see any reason why I should go
‘on living in a world when I meet only pitying glances? 1 have no one
gependent upon me, and so would not be missed. And to add insult to
injury I was christened Chestina. Even my employer never looks at
me except when necessary. I wonder if you can possibly find anything
to sgy to me that could make me desire to live? CHESTINA R.
MY DEAR Chestina. |
. » -
WHEN | was a kid: ~
. . -
IN OUR town. -
S o
THERE WERE two girls.
Ll - -
WHO LIVED near us.
- . .
AND ONE of the girls.
- - -
WAS THE prettiest girl,
. - -
IN THE town.
%8 %
AND WHENEVER I'd sce her.
- * -
WITH ANOTHER boy.
* - .
I'D GO nearly mad.
- - L
AND | loved her so much.
- * - .
THAT FOR days at a time.
. . -
I'D GO around. P
L . -
WITH A high fever.
. - -
AND NO appetite,
. - -
AND THE other girl.
- . -
WAS THE homeliest girl.
-.- \
IN THE whole town,
- - -
AND IF‘lt .hadn't have been.
-
THAT SHE had a brother,
- -
THERE.W'OULD have been no one.
-
TO TAKE her to parties.
» - -
AND |T. happeried one night,
- -
THAT BOTH of the girls.
’ - Ll
WERE AT a party.
- - .
AND | was there,
- - -
AND Ol!E of .the boys. .
- . -
PULLEP AWAY a chair
. -
| WAS going to sit on,
% PUBLIC SERVICE
AND | hit my head.
* * *
ON A window frame,
* * *
AND T stunned me so.
- * -
THAT J.US.T I’Or a minute,
| DIDN'T knnfv anything.
- *
AND WHEN I came to.
- * * .
THE HOMELY girl,
-- - i
WAS D?W.N on her knees,
- .
AND WAS‘ hn.lding my head.
- .
IN TWO soft hand.
- - *
AND T';lEßE,was'a bruise.
-
ON THE back of my head,
- * *
AND IT stained her hands.
- * =
AND HER.clean white dress.
. -
AND SHE didn’t care.
- - -
AND THE pretty girl,”
- - -
JUST STOPPED for a moment.
-~ -
AND WENT away.
- - 5
AND 1| l:eard her laugh.
- -
IN THE‘ game they played.
- - .
AND STRANGELY it seemed.
- . *
THAT THE homely girl.
- * *
JUST FADED out.
- - -
AND CAME back again.
- - -
AS A beautiful girl.
- - -
AND SO st:e remained,
* »
TH ROUGH‘ M‘Y boyhood days.
. .
AND 89 she is yet,
- »
IN MY memories,
- - ‘
—| THANK you
, ;
} By James Bx Nevin =
HE sad thought that has been
I in my mind more than any
thing else of late 1s the
thought that Capt. \“Tip” Harrison
wasn’'t here to see it all amu
part of it.
I do_not think the reunion was
an occasion for sad thoughts, and
1 am quite sure Captain “Tip” him
self would not have had a thought
of him mar in any wise the perfect
pleasure of the gathering of his old
comrades in arms. But Captain
“Tip” always did seem to me such \
an essential and altogether vital
part of the entire Confederate es
tablishment that it is difficult for
me to reconcile myself to his ab
sence. ;
There was a soldier of the Con
federacy, without fear and withou
reproach! -
I never talked to him of the war
that I didn’t feel he was the ideal
Johnny Reb. He fought through
the whole thing, too, lterally from
Bul! Run to Appomattox. He was a
gentleman—a..soldier and a gerfl
man; and ever to me the w
have seemed to go together, the one
belonging to the other, whether in
specific cases it always attached
or no.
He was a brave soldier, was “Tip”
Harrison, wherefore he was modest
of his own explotts; but he could
tell wonderful tales of the bravery,
the gallantry ,and, the loyalty of
others, Whenever 1 wanted to find
out what he did, I generally had to
ask Capt. “Bill” Wright or Colonel
Lindsay about that, Vi
Back in the days before Phil
Cook passed away and while Cap
“Tip"” Harrison still was heres. }
speak, one could gather about alr
the information one needed con
cerning the Confederate army, un
der the big dome of the Capitol.
There’'s something about a Con
federate soldier in this day and
time that moves the very 'hearts
and souls of men.
There they are, for the most part
well halfway across their final ten
of the three score and ten alloited
to mortals—many of them entirely
across and moving into the glorious
sunset of four score!
The deeds they wrought are so
fa:_g moved from present -day
th ® ; that for the greater part they
may be only thought upon vaguels.
History as written in the bhooks has
not been kind or just to them; but
as it is written in the hearts.of the
Southern people, it is overfloving
with imperishable glory!
There they go, these dear and
precious old men, down the final
lap and over the ultimate path;,J
way! ‘
God bless every one of them and
have them tenderly and sweetly in
His keeping, and bring them safe |
at last into the perfect peace of the
Everlasting Arms! .
1 chased Frank I. Stanton to. his
lair not long ago and had quite a
talk with ‘him.
That's the only way one ever gets
to talk to him; one has to run him
down and insist upon it,
Not that the gentleman isn’t the
most soclable and genial of com
panions, for he is; but that he just
naturally is so modest and retiring
that it never oceurs to him to start
anything by way of visiting‘or con
versation.
Mr. Stanton and myself used to
live next door neighbors in Rome,
and we still have a fondness for
that dear old town. He knew aIP
my folks and liked them and they
liked him, and so I simply can not !
make up my mind to let F. L. S.
escape me entirely, as time slips
along. We went over all the old
ground together and decided that
Rome was and still is all right.
Not long ago a colored brother
who used to livé in Rome dropped
in to see Mr. Stanton and told him
he had been.up looking over the
old scenes. “Well, well,” said F.
L. 8., “now, when I lived there the
town was right between two rivers:
they came together from the East
and the North and just about sur
rounded the town. Tell me, are
those two rivers still running
around there?”
F. L.s visitor looked at him in
amazement for a minute, and then
he said: “Fohe Gawd, Mr, Frank,
of course they’se still running there.
Where else in the name of the
Lord is they to run?”
I guess everybody in-Atlanta {s
pretty well agreed upon the matter |
of loving Frank L. Stanton. He's |
mighty well worth loving. I'll say {
he is. {
A correspondent writes to Inquire l
why Ido pot “write something
about spitting on the sidewalk,” |
and urges the enforcement of the i
ordinance against that practise. {
_ln the first place, this ordinance |
is very well enforeced in Atlanta. |
In the second place, I do not like |
to write about things of the kind, [
unless absolutely necessary, i
I would not urge a citizen not to |
Bpit on the living room floor in his
own home. If it were necessary to
urge him not to do so, the urging
would fall upon unhearing ears: |
and yet, I think it would be more {
considerate of him to spit there‘;
than on the sidewalk, if he must f
Spit in the one place or the other.
At least, he thus would be pre- |
serving to himself some quality of °
that “personal liberty” his kind !
likes to talk about; and then, he
would be confining his indecent
activities t 6 that extent where
they interfered with nobody save t
himself, in so far as they might be
8o confined. {
The man who makes a practise |
of spitting on the sidewalk is a |
pretty sorry and a pretty hopeless |
sort of citizen. A man who isn’t
rather far gone in most every
other direction will not spit on
sidewalk. a 2 gy N
And whenever I see one who
does that, I fel sorry for him. He's |
got a long way to ‘“come back,” |
if he does!