The Black range. (Robinson, Socorro County, N.M.) 1882-1897, 1883-08-03
Genuine American.

Genuine American.
l am always sorry to see youth get
irrltated, and pack up his clothes In the
heat of debate, and leave the home nest.
His future is little doubtful, and it is
hard to prognosticate whether he will
fracture limestone for the streets of a
great city, or become president of the
United States, but there is a beautiful
and luminous life aheadof him in com.
parison with that of the boy who OBJ
stinately refuses to leave the home
nest.
The boy who cannot summon the
moral courage some day to uncol the
tendrils of his heart from the cluster
ing idols OF the household to grappe
with outrageous fortune, ought to be
taken by the ear and led away out into
the great untired realm of space.
While the great world throbs on, he
sighs and refuses to throb. While other
young men put on their seal-brown
overalls and wrench the laurel wreath
and other vegetables from cruel fate,
the youth who bangles near the old
nest and eats the hard earned groceries
of their father, shlvers on the brink of
life's great current and sheds the sCald-
ing tear.
He is the young-man-afraid-Of-the
saw-buck, the human being with the
unlaundried spinal column. The only
vital question that may be said to agi-
tate his pseudo brain is whether he
shall marry and bring his wife to the
home nest, or marry and tear loose from
his parents to live with his father-in-
law. Finally he settles 1t, and com
promises by living alternately with
each.
How the old folks yearn to see him.
How their aged eyes light up when he
comes with his growing family to de-
YOUR everything in sight and yawn
through the space between meals. This
is the heyday of his life; the high noon
of the boy who never yentured to ride
the yearling colt, or to be yanked
through the shimmering sunlight at
the tail of a two-year old heifer. He
never surreptit'ously cut the copper
wire off the lightning rod to snare suck
ers with, and he never went swimming
because the great rude boys might duck
him or paint him with mud. He Shun-
ned the green-apple of bOyhood, and
did not slide down hill, because he
would have to pull his sled back to the
top again.
Now he bOrrows other peoples news
papers, eats the provisions of others
and sits on the counter of the grocery
till the proprietor calls him a counter
irritant.
There can be nothing more un-
American than this habby polyp, this
one-hOrse tadpole that never becomes
frog. The average American would
rather bust up in business six times in
four years and settle for nine cents on
the dollar than to lead such life. He
would rather be an active bankrupt
than a weak and bilious barnacle on
the clam-shed of home.
The true American would rather
work himself into luxury or lunatic
asylum than to hang like a great wart
on the face of nature. This young
man is not in accordance with Yankee
schedule, and yet | do not want to say
that he belongs to any other nation.
Foreign powers may have been wrong;
translantic nations have erred, and the
system of European government may
have been erroneous, but | would not
come cut and charge them with this
horrible responsibility. They never
harmed me, and will not tarnish their
fame with this grave indictment.
He will breathe a certain amount of
atmosphere, and absorb given amount
of feed for few years, and then the
full grown biped will leave the home
nest at last. The undertaken will come
and get HIM out to the cemetery. That
will be all. There can be no deep abid-
ing sorrow for him here; public build
ings will not be draped in mourning,
and you can get your mail at the usual
hours when he dies. The band will
not play a sadder strain because the
tag end of a human failure has tapered
down to death, and the soft and shape
less features are still. You will have
no trouble getting draft cashed on
that day, and the giddy throng will
join the picnic as they had made ar
rangements to do.-Bill Nye in Detroit
Free Press.