The evening world. Newspaper, August 21, 1918, Page 10

— —— i \ —s =. ESTABLISHED. BY “JOSEPH PULITZER. hed Daily Sund by the Press Publishing Company, os. ° “ian Bacept Sune bark Row, New York. 63_Park Row, President, aA , Treasurer, 6 . LITZER, Jr, Secretary, 63 Park Row. MEMBER OF THE ASSOCIATED tnt tan Pree ititied to the tor rept lon cette AT a erwtes crediisd inthis paper and ale the local news published Sepipuneteanntonnanmnentsaisenenennaiensesnsnans WOLUME 59.......++6+ PEACE BY CHRISTMAS? THE mass stupid, individually intelligent,” was Bismarck’s opinion of the governing forces of Prussia as far back as 1865. They “became childish en corpore,” he added. That men of university education should be so hopeless and helpless when they sought as a body to manage their affairs was always a matter, ef despair with the Chancellor. It is to this unchanged characteristic that we owe the world war and its obstinate prosecution by Germany. The stupid m is unable to evolve a way out of its sufferings, so it stumbles on and makes the rest of mankind suffer too. Nothing will penetrate this mass but bayonets, it would appear, in the light of history. We look for the illumination to reach through from the gleaming) steel of 2,000,000 American soldiers who will be on the ground by) Oct. 1. We do not share the belief that the end is a matter of next year or the next. We believe Uncle Sam can make the harassed earth) a Chistmas Gift of Peace, brought about by force of arms. We te- lieve he will! j American troops do not want to spend a vile winter combating cold, filth and vermin inthe trenches. They are now stronger and more virile than they ever will be again, more fit to carry out their great task. | — The naive suggestion comes from the Interborough tha! Grand Central commuters should get off at 126th Street and walk to the Lexington Avenue subway. Better still, they might continue on to the depot and then finish their journey on foot, just dropping a ticket in a box on the. sidewalk Why compromise? ——————— PUBLIC PLAYGROUNDS. HE city now finds itself without funds to continue the public playgrounds for children. The sum of $6,485,000 was appro- priated last year for use during the present year for non-city charitable institutions, of which amount $4,295,000 was given 19 private child caring institutions. Thousands of these community cared for individuals have found, their way into institutions because of Jack of sunshine, proper food, | congested conditions and the like. Already the city has been awakened to the need of getting to} the underlying causes of its burdens and securing the ounce of pre- vention rather than the pound of cure. One of these measures is the Widow’s Pension Act, which secures to each of thousands of fatherless children the care of its mother! during the school-going period. | In Chicago such an act alone has reduced the Juvenile Court) delinquents to a marked degree, and doubtless statistics in our own| city will show the same condition. Thousands of children have been kept out of institutions which include not only orphan asylums but tubercular sanatoriums, juvenile jails and similar places to which the child of poverty and the father- less have been sent. Proper play is another preventive measure. As has been well said, the bad boy is only one with misdirected energy. If you do not| provide wholesome play and proper places he will find them for him- self, perhaps in criminal channels. Play streets which have been secured through the efforts of The. Evening World have proved a boon to the children, and vehicular traffic might well be diverted to secure more such spaces. A few thousand dollars spent by the city should be transferred | from some less important department and secure for the children their God-given right to play. a et ey Sees The bus ladies in Lunnon have gone on strike, the sex was inferior to men? KITING. HE cheerful gentlemen who want to take the lid off the price of wheat know what they are doing. hey foresee the near ending of the war and want a chance to speculate. A fine example lies before them inthe price of cotton, Ranging from five cents a pound to thirty-five in three years, it has afforded a speculative field behind which even Wall Street is modest, The white goods district has been having the time of its life. No wonder the wheat pit sighs for exercise. cy Oe SEE Who said | Germany is shocked again, The Americans are using shotguns! Such a sensitiveness! eee; Letters From the Finds Army Mail Service Improved, | College ‘To the Editor of The Brening World ‘ena You have published many letters |T) the Editor of The Ewming Word regarding delay in the mails to ard| I have read the letters from differ from our boys in Burope in war|ent readers of your paper and I be- service. No doubt there was some | lieve that most of your readers think delay, but I am sure it was unavoid- | as I do, that college men of all rank able and ts being remedied as rap-| and courses should and must be teken idly as possible. into the army, All men are created On the 17th inst, I received # let-|equal: equal to the same rights and ter from @ young marine who 1s on|liabilities. I myself & college the farthest fighting line in France.|man, and 1 believe that it would 4 It was written July 24. On the 14th/a@ gross fallacy not to take college 1 received another from a young ar-|men into the service of the Unired Ulleryman who is still training In| States by means of the draft, if they France. It was written July 23.] were too weak to enlist. ‘There was no unreasonable delay in these two case: I fully appre People = to Draft Some one may ask why I am not in the service, but | must say for my- self that I am well under eighteen jate the disappoint ment of the fathers, mothers, wives,| years of age; however, 1 have hy children, brothers, sisters, sweet-|two years of military’ training in hearts and Yriends in not hearing|college and high school, more promptly and frequently from those whom they love, and how much the letters froma home mean to our absent heroes. But we must be patient and not grumble. It is more important to all of us that our ships carry to them reinforcements, food, clothing and ammunition, so that the big task may C. J, states that college men mast be the mainstay and hope of the future. A look into that statement proves it erratic, for there are enough older college graduates who will take care of the future of the nation, if that future depends on the number and ability of our college graduates, Too many slackers have already in- ok ay mans Prepare for Further Retreat | EDITORIAL PAGE | Wednesday, August 21, 918 — & it a4 re ~ or —_ Yt -_ — — — Near-Peace and ERILY, verily, My Daughter, Yea, it is weaker than ¥ picture play. Yet, every si cream and almos' The piazza BORE, who clingeth shaken off nor escaped nor ignored. | | Koo Carek | by talking of her “diet.” The attractive married man whose wife doth not “understand” him and who yearneth for “sympathy” from every pretty damsel—and a few widows. The attractive married woman whose husband “neglecteth” her and who GETTETH sympathy from all the men—and undying hatred from all the women. The spoiled and suspicious young bachelor, who CANNOT be cor- railed, but spendeth his days in the artful dodging of maidens and the eluding of grass widows. The girl tamer of ripe years, who cometh down in white flannels and a motor car and adorneth the piazza over week ends. The pretty damsel in search of romance, who changeth her frock six but never altereth her expression of boredom and ennui. The emaciated woman, who sitteth all day with one eye on her hus- times a di band and the other on her knitting n The woman with a poodle, the woman with a bull dog, the woman with a Pomeranian; the fat women, who nervous women, the talkative women and the women who never stop KNITTING! Verily, verily, thou mayest change thy summer resort seven times seventy times, but thou shalt never alter these, the summer boarders and seekers after diversion, one jot or tittle. Nay, nor the inconveniences, nor boredom! For one summer resort is like unto another, one summer hotel resem- bleth another, one hotel room is as hot as another, and one crowd of | summer resorters is as intolerable as another! And from June until September, there is no quiet, no peace, no joy and nothing interesting under the sun! Yet, every morning, do WE, the summer resorters, arise and congri ulate one another, saying: “How DREADFUL it must be, in Selah. By Nixola G No. XI11.—THE HE merry Greenwich villager may weigh 80 or 180 pounds, her but garments) make no more concessions to avoirdupois than to fashion. Whatever her di- mensions, they are encased in a long loose smock, show- ing a huge splotch of color in the place where slaves of convention have @ bust, or simulate one. “I dyed it myself," she tells you proudly, though you would much rather blame some one else for it, “I can't get anything in the shops to suit me. Commercial colors are far too crude, of course, and the designs are so hopelessly bourgeois. 1 dipped this first In a dark yellow, then in dull green, and then, because it was too new looking, I left it in the sun for several days till it faded to this de- Nghtful tint.” You note as the merry maiden tells you this that she is a “chain” smoker, but you gave up being shocked by cigarettes years ago, and though her next procedure includes handing you | a pamphlet on birth-control, you re- | main unruffied, She may tell you| that Strindberg is childish er that) Wedekind was not frank enough—| not quite honest, in fact. She believes that you should go to the Night Court tor Women with her some time—not to observe the unfortunate girls ar- raigned there, but to study the funny cr-atures from West End Avenue and | itiverside who come down there for ‘aplift.” “Sinut-hound: terms | them, borrowing the histo of H. L. Mencken Needless to #ay, she is not a “smut- hound” herself, though her carefully she © phrase! sele Mbrary may include Decameron,” "Casenova" and Bur- ton's “Arabian Nights,” She gorges novels, and one of her | most trying traits is @ disposition to \ tell you the plots of stories you would have read yourself if you had wanted to know anything about them, “Minnie Brown was here this morning,” she confides to you while you hunt up @ chair in the blare of color and the riot of broken furni- ture she calls her “studio.” “She's left Bill and wants her freedom, But, fested the colleges with the hope of be completed inore quickly. DRU avoiding eervice, . 8 » BLUB. Capyright, 1915, by The Press Publishing Co, reeley-Smith (The New York Evening World.) GREENWICH VILLAGER thinks he's in love with me, you know. But I have just telephoned him that unless he succeeds in making up with Minnie, it's all off. My id must be blond, over forty and MAR- RIED, I positively insist on his being married, for then he can never marry me.” Notwithstanding her fierce hatred of marriage, the merry Greenwich Villager usually accepts the first good offer she receives and, on occasion, is not above pursuing and rounding up the elusive bachelor quite as if she had been brought up in the most select circles. She may have the ceremony performed “under the ap- ple blossoms" in the orchard of some Long Island inn, as a slight conces- sion to former radicalism, but the tle itself is as solid and legal and bind- ing as law and religion can make it just the same. In her soul, and quite generally in her conduct, the merry Greenwich Villager is eminently respectable. “What has become of the Feminist Alliance?” I asked one of the vil- lage priestesses who had been Presi- dent of that organization for “the removal of all barriers based on sex.” I had attended a meeting several months before and been struck by the unanimous fervor with which “one law for the man and another for the woman” had been denounced, “Why, we had to give it up,” the priestess of feminism replied in a shocked voice. “You remember we held the meetings in the home of | Mrs, Blank, She turned out to ba a perfectly dreadful woman, Why, she eloped with another man as soon as she found out her husband was unfaithful.” : The person who takes Greenwich Village radicalism at its face value must prepire himself for severe dis- appointment, I shall never forget the exberience ef one honest com muter who has the harmless hobby of wishing to appear a “regular \ devil’ with women. Business took him into one of the village shops kept by two young and attractive girls. Shortly afterward he was thrilled to receive a card of invitation bear- Jing thelr names-—a date—and under. neath the mysterious words “Dancing and Dunken.” What was Dunken? What insidious immorality lurked in that veiled but blaring word? Alas, none of the commuter's friends could as I told her, people who get divoi take marriage far too seriously, Bul for ap afternoon in an endeavor to tell him, though he knocked off work Nev Vark GiNr eee You ienaw find out. When the day of dancing and dunken dawned he was Still is-| norant, and so curious that, shame of shames, he telephoned his wife he would not be home for dinner and actually went to the party. The dancing, he soon discovered, con- sisted of the regular fox trots and two-steps he had danced at the country club, But dunken? When was dunken going to begin? Evening wore on and a supper was served—a supper with nothing but soft drinks and coffee—and then it was explained to the disgusted guest that dunken, a word of German or Dutch origin (1 forget which), signi- fles simply the act of dipping bread in coffee, Sadly the commuter ‘“dun- kened” and went back home to Ora- dell, N, J. The Jarr Covpright, 1918, by The Press Publishing Uo, | (Toe New York Evening World.) 66°C ELL me again,” said Mr. Jarr, as he dropped ints Gus's oasis, “of the pro- cedure that brought about a cessa- tion of marital warfare.” “I don't get you," said Gus; “what is it?” “Recount once more your personal experience in the taming of your self-selected shrew,” replied Mr, Jarr, “the pacification of your own particular war bride.” woids I don’t understand,” said Gus, ‘Making the Most A Series of Plain By Ray C. Beery, A. B., M. A., President of the Parents’ Association Should Our Children Be Allowed To Use Slang? OU may think it sounds clever to hear your small child use slang or say “naughty” words occasionally, when the use of gven the mild use of slang tends to establish a habit of slovenliness in the use of the mother-tongue which later is hard to break. Many parents realize this and yet are at a loss to know how best to deal with the habit. “With my five-year-old boy, there s one thing I can't control,” writes one mother, language. For example, we will all be seated at the table when Harry will sa ee, | had a great time with the dog! He raced all over the blamed yard with that darned old bone.’ He knows that I do not ap- prove of this language, but he will repeat ‘darn’ in some other way just to tantalize, What would you advise under the circumstances?” First, play with this little fellow in, Who swears himself will not want his y that will cause him to think cMildren to use »rc’ane language. you are about the best friend he has, Spend @ than you have been spending, show an interest in him and thus get him| with other bad habits, such as drink- to realize that you have in you the power to make him happy or deprive loat-rs or derelicts of the town, Thas him of happiness. ‘Then, when he uses an objection-| the least bit of | not something to be desired by able word, don't sh« diswust or annoyance, Simply get his | “nice” undivided attention, have him come|of manliness, very close to you and, after @ ‘brief (Coppright, 191 4 but|and continue the play or say some- vulgar language | have @ truly friendly spirit, becomes a habit) Too often parents obey their nat- there is no wise|ural impulse and show that they are mother who is not, provoked. It is common to hear ex- worrled. pressions like this: “I wish you would “He will use vulgar|¢F “to teach little boys not to swear little* more time with him/ operate, the mother must find some of Our Children Talks to Parents pause, say In a very low voice and very slowly: “Wo will not say ‘darn’ any more. That is all f wanted to tell you. You can remember that, can't you?” Immediately after saying this, smile thing which will show him that you |quit using by-words, No one thinks it is @ bit smart.” But this has just enough sting to it to make a boy want to retaliate by teasing. The method |deseribed is much better because it gets results without antagonism, Both parent and child are on a friendly | basis. Is It possible,” asks another moth- it their father does and |cute?” | thinks it} If swearing !s the only bad habit the father has and he is admired by} everybody nd has the absolute con-) fidence of his children, then it is al-| |most certain that he will teach the| children to swear of the | mother's efforts, As a rule, however, even the father in spite Of course if the father does not co- y| way of linking the habit of swearing ing, observed perhaps in certain street she can strive to show that even if father uses profane language, it Is ally boys—nor is it an expression |. by Whe Parents’ Seociation Lae.) “If you are kidding me with them |; roses, and August mosquitoes follow July heat, do I pack my frills and follow the crowd. Yea, here am I, once more, in the land of n¢ near-peace and almost-comfort! And, lo, THEY, likewise, are ALL here—— The hotel siren, wearing her MOST dangerous smile and her imported glad rags and all her jewelry. The genial funny man, with the roseate face and the unquenchabie | thirst and the unsquelchable af-ability. The woman who is “reducing” and insisteth on spoiling thine appetite Sayings of Mrs. Solomon By Helen Rowland Copyright, 1918, by The Press Publishing Co, (The New York Evening World.) Hail the Summer Resort—the Land of Near-Milk and Al- most-Honey, Near-Love and Almost-Delight, Almost -Comfort! how weak {s the will of a woman! the plot of a problem novel, frailer an a New Year's vow and softer than the hero of a motion- Behold, every season, upon my return from the Summer Resort, I have cried bitterly, “Never Again!” eason, as July heat followeth June honey, near-love and almost-delight, closer than a brother and cannot be eedles, never move from their chairs; the the noises, nor the suffering, nor the the CITY, to-dayt” Family “LE don't care, A rattlesnake biting me for a Joke would only make me laugh these days, with what beer ind case goods cost wholesale, and my best trade going in for ooniforms and soft drinks at sody fountains, I don’t care if I never dic.” “And the raison d'etre of your pessimism?” asked Mr. Jarr. “Go ahead and talk all the langu- age to me you want to!" said Gus with a sigh, “1 ain't saying I don't understand every word you say, even if I can't explain it to myself, mind you, If you want to talk like a man that has taken a shoot of doop, that is your business, But I'll bet you I don't need to sing the Lorelei, which says, ‘I don't know why I have been so sad, already yet.’ And why not? Well because my wife, Lena, she ain't thrown nothing at me, not even woids, in a week.” “She has been away vacationing, then?” asked Mr, Jarr, “Yes, partly, But that ain't the real reason,” declared Gus gloomily, “IT tell you I got a big idear what works fine, Gee! I don't care even if my wife Lena’s mother comes now by the house—me they never say a word to when she does, And, mind you, it is cheap yet, and the fresh air does her good.” “I fall to grasp your meaning with any enlightening degree of clarity,” said Mr, Jarr. “Lightning ain't got nothing to do with it,” said Gus, “and Clarity ain't got nothing to do with it, and, best yet, I don't have to get married myself again nor nobody I like don't have to get married, Strangers will do. Only, maybe, it won't work for you if you don't read ‘em, Some people reads them and some people don't. But that's because men don’t care for them like women ladies do.” “Be a good fellow and give us @ diagram of what you are talking about,” said Mr, Jarr, “Are you try- ing to tell mo the great secret of how to be happy though married, Gus?" “Oh, T ain't saying people don't get happy sometimes when they get mar- ried,” replied Gus, “All I know is that I have found a way that my wife Lena gets rid of all her cryings. Whos she cries she is happy, and now she has got a way that she can get a ery mit out first having to get mad at me, That's the way to do it, Mit wimmen, being mad is caused by water on the brain, “This is new to me,” remarked Mr, Jarr. “Yos, when they cry it takes the water off the brain,” Gus went on, “then they are all right for a while. By Roy L. McCardel But it's getting an excuses at home for getting the water off the brain through the eyes, by a fight mit her husband, what makes all the trouble with a lady, Of course, one way for a gentleman {s to start a fuss mit his wife by beating her up. So al! I am afrald of is that, maybe, there will be a war law against them, And my wife, Lena, and ber mother goes to all of them.” “What are you talking about?’ asked Mr. Jarr in amazement, “Why them military weddings,’ replied Gus, “ain't I talking plain to you? I read in the papers about them society military weddings, mit the bride walking under swords of officers who are friends of the bride’s husband “Well, my Lena is always out to have « good time where she can cry plenty, and she hurries and gets her mother, who enchoys weddings by cry- ing, too, and they go to the church and get a good cry and maybe ride to the house to the wedding decep- tion, being mistooken for invited re- lations nobody knows. And my wife Lena cries again when the bride goes away when she throws old shoes at her and don't hit her. This takes the water off my wife Lena's brain and she comes home happy and don't fight mit me.” said Mr. Jarr, ‘that's only “Sure!” said Gus. “But I read the papers every day and pick at least one swell military wedding a week, and now Lena don't do nothing but go to them in her best dress and ery and enchoy herself crying. I don't eut in my vost no more, because I'm wear- ing wedding bouquets in my ooat lapel, and when my Lena looks at it she bursts out crying and says ‘May be the war bride will soon be @ war widow,’ and crying makes my wife Lena happy and me too ee HE DID NOT KNOw, ‘T was in an Indianapolis court @ | few weeks ago, A colored fel- low was before the Judge on a charge of bootlegging, “Were you cver arrested before?" the Judge asked, “Yes, sir, once.” “How long were you in Jail then?” “I was not put in jail.” “How Is {t you were ar did wel go tO ant eens and et “Well, I was fined $1 and costs and paid the costs." “How much was that?” Eleven dollars.” “I suppose the Judge got $6 and the rest went to the jury, didn't $t?” “I don't know, Jud, wasn’t there when they divided it."—dIndt wren janapoliy