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the Missouri and the upper Missis
sippi swallow enough rich land to
constitute a state as big as Massa
chusetts. Why not save that pre
cious land for our children and our
children’s children? We spend mil
lions on irrigation projects. If we
can spend money to get water on to
land, why can’t we spend money to
get water off other land? That is a
question which, though frequently
asked, has never been satisfactory•*
or adequately answered. Surely it is
up to congress to answer it.
*
Progress.
The world moves. A Chinese re
public is proposed! Doesn’t that jar
you? The Democratic idea, like Ten
nyson’s brook, goes on forever. If
Thomas Jefferson is cognizant of
what happens on this mundane
he must be delighted, to use a favor
ite word of' the latest of his suc
cessors. The Chinese have been sup
posed to be not only joined to their
idols, as was Ephraim of old, but
also to their ideas. They have been
counted as the most incurable conser
vatives and moss-backs of all human
beings, but there is such an institu
tion as the Chinese Empire Reform
Association, which has for its ambi
tious purpose the Americanize rio’->
'China and the establishment of a re
public. Wonders will never
and surely this is the most marvelous
bit of news during the first seven
days of 1907. Suppose the afore
mentioned association should succeed
in Americanizing China, which
means that China and the Chinese
would wake up. Suppose, also, that
the 400,000,0*00 and odd Chinese, af
ter they are waked up, should join
hands with the forty odd millions of
Japs who have already waked up,
and that they should take it into
their yellow pates to go forth con
quering and to conquer? What then?
All the white men on the face of the
earth would be compelled in self de
fense, to bury their own differences
and line up together in order to
withstand these Asiatic hordes. Asi
atic nations, from time immemorial,
have been in the habit of swarming
after the fashion of bees, and the
only reason they have not swarm
ed much since the battle of Tours,
in which Charles . Martel defeated
Abd-er-Rahman, is that the power
of the whites has restrained them.
But within the lifetime of folks now
on earth Japan has experienced a
new birth. So may China, and when
she does it is war to the death be
tween the yellow races and the
white races.
*
Millionaire Senators.
Colorado delights in millionaire or
multimillionaire senators. Hon.
Thomas M. Patterson, who retires
March 4, is a very rich man, perhaps
a millionaire. He will be succeeded
by Hon. Simon Guggenheim, a mul
timillionaire. Patterson displayed
ability in the house of the ancients,
as everybody knew he would, for he
had been a representative in con
gress, is a great lawyer and editor
of a great newspaper. Let us hope
that his successor, while without ex
perience in public affairs, may dem
onstrate that he is a statesman and
not a mere money bag. He starts
out well by giving up all connection
with the great smelter trust and de-
clares that he will not represent a
special interest or interests, but the
whole state of Colorado. There may
be doubts as to whether he can shake
off his training as a trust magnate,
but as his promises are fair people
generally will be inclined to take him
at his word. Some of Colorado’s
multimillionaire senators have cut
fantastic capers before high heaven,
but her latest contribution to the sen
ate may, for all that, make his mark
as a valuable public servant. Nous
verrons.
Chinese Coolies.
Hon. Samuel Gompers, president
of the American Federation of Labor,
has no influence, so we are informed
by certain high and mighty Republi
cans. As heretofore related, some of
them even have the cheek to claim
that his opposition to a measure
boosts it rather than retards it. If
that be true, strange things are hap
pening—things inexplicable. For in
stance, some of us about a year ago
made a fight in the house to prevent
the employment of Chinese coolies on
the isthmian canal. President Gom
pers was on our side in that fight, but
the plutocrats rolled us. Now, how
ever, reflecting on the election re
turns, the Republicans have sudden
ly concluded that President Gompers
and the rest of us were right all
the time, and, therefore, they declare
that Chinese coolies will not be em
ployed in building the canal, a fact
on which Uncle Sammy Gompers may
congratulate himself and union labor.
Judge Walter Evans, of the United
States court for the western district
of Kentucky, has a sort of patent
right on away to get his name into
the newspapers, and that is by de
claring important laws of congress
unconstitutional. This habit of the
judge causes President Roosevelt to
devote a sharp paragraph in his De
cember message to one of the judge’s
decisions, though he did not name
the judge. Now comes Judge Evans
and “busts” the federal employers’
liability act. At this rate he will
soon become persona non grata at
the White House.
ANOTHER ENGLISH CLASSIC.
Last week we gave to the readers
of the Jeffersonian “The Lay of the
Laborer.”
We presented this as a specimen
of perfect English and also as a
poem -which, of its kind, was most
excellent.
This week we give as a companion
piece to “The Lay of the Laborer”
another poem of the same class, by
the same author, “The Workhouse
Clock.” In the latter, the tone is
deeper and scope of treatment wid
er, and the pathos more universal.
“The Lay of the Laborer” runs with
the power of a river. In “The Work
house Clock” there is the sound of
the deep blue ocean, stirred to its
depths by some great tidal wave.
R
THE WORKHOUSE CLOCK.
An Allegory.
•There’s a murmur in the air,
A noise in every street—
The murmur of many tongues,
The noise of numerous feet—
While ’round the workhouse door
The laboring classes flock,
THE WEEKLY JEFFERSONIAN.
For why?—the overseer of the
poor
Is setting the workhouse clock.
Who does not hear the tramp
Os thousands speeding along
Os either sex and various stamp,
Sickly, crippled or strong,
Walking, limping, creeping
From court, and alley, and lane,
But all in one direction sweeping,
Like rivers that sweep the main?
Who does not see them sally
From mill, and garret, and room,
In lane, and court, and alley,
From homes in poverty’s lowest
valley,
Furnished with shuttle and loom—
Poor slaves of Civilization’s galley—
And in the road and footways rally,
As if for the day of doom?
Some, of hardly human form,
(Stunted, crooked, and crippled by
toil,
Dingy with smoke, and dust, and
oil,
And smirched besides with vicious
soil;
Clustering, mustering all in a swarm.
Father, mother, and careful child,
Looking as if it had never smiled,
The seamstress lean, and weary, and
wan—
With only the ghost of garments on—
The weaver, her sallow neighbor,
The grim and sooty artisan;
Every soul-child, woman, or man,
Who lives—or dies—by labor.
Stirred by an overwhelming zeal,
And social impulse, a terrible
throng
Leaving shuttle and needle and wheel,
Furnace and grindstone, spindle and
reel,
Thread and yarn and iron and
steel,
Yea, rest, and the yet unitasted
meal—
Gushing, rushing, crushing along,
A very torrent of Man!
Urged by the sighs of sorrow and
wrong,
Grown at laist to a hurricane strong,
Stop its course; who can!
Stop, who can, its onward course,
And irresistible moral force,
O! vain and idle dream!
For surely men are all akin,
According to Nature’s scheme,
That human movement contains
within
A blood-power stronger than steam.
Onward, onward with hasty feet,
They swarm—and westward still
Masses born to drink and eat,
But staving amidst Whitechapel’s
meat,
And famishing down Cornhill!
Through the Poultry, but still un
fed,
Christian charity hang your head.
Hungry—passing the Street of
Bread,
Thirsty—beside the Ludgate mart,
So gorgeous through mechanic art,
With cotton, and wool, and silk.
At last, before that door
That bears so many a knock,
Ere ever it opens to sick or poor,
Like sheep they huddle and flock—
And would that all the good and
wise
Could see the million of hollow
eyes,
With the gleam derived from hope
and the skies,
Upturned to the workhouse clock!
0! that the parish powers
Who regulate labor’s hours
The daily (amount of human trial,
Weariness, pain, and self-denial,
Would turn from the artificial dial,
That striketh ten or eleven,
And go for once by that older one
That stands in the light of Nature’s
sun,
And bakes its time from Heaven
LET THE PEOPLE ELECT.
In the Jeffersonian of this week
reference is made to a report of
the interstate commerce commission,
which gives 16,937 as the number of
people killed by railroads in the
United States in the second quarter
of this year. The report was grati
fying to the commission that so small
a number were killed, as a larger
number had been killed during the
preceding quarter.
Just think of it—the cfommtence
commission gratified that only 16,-
93/ people had been killed by rail
roads in the United States in the
long period of three months’ time!
Our railroads kill annually more
people than are killed in most of
the wars 'that have happened in
history. This is American thrift and
progress, and many millions may be
destroyed before the people realize
fully the utter reckless disregard of
life a soulless corporation has when
trying to make dividends on watered
stock. The Rambler is opposed to
government ownership of railroads,
but we do insist, at the top of our
voice, that the goveirnment should
control them, and we believe that this
can be done if all of our officers are
elected by the people—not only rail
road commissioners, but from federal
judges and United States senators
down to postmasters—so that every
demagogue is amenable only to the
people. Let the people elect every
thing.—Rambler, Cordele, Ga.
THE NEW MAGAZINE,
Watson’s Jeffersonian Magazine—
first number—-is before uis. Jt is
very attractive in appearance, me
chanically, and the contents are for
the most part, Watsonian, which
means that they are interesting, and
that a spade is not called a shovel.
One feature of the magazine is espe
cially fine. We refer to the depart
ment under the head of “A Survey
of the World,” in charge of that
peerless writer, Chas. J. Bayne. If
there were nothing else in the maga
zine, this department alone would be
worth the price of subscription. Will
N. Harben’s latest novel, “Ann
Boyd,” will run serially in the mag
azine, and those who like Mir. Har
ben’s work will be afforded a splen
did opportunity to study his charac
ters and philosophy.
To those who want Mr. Watson’s
magazine, we will state that we can
supply it in connection with The Citi
zen almost at the price of the maga
zine alone. The magazine is worth
$1.50 per. year. For $1.75 we can
supply The Citizen and magazine for
one year.
Let us have your subscriptions at
once, that you may start in with the
first number of the magazine.—North
Ga. Citizen, Dalton, Ga.
3