Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1884-09-16

|
My son, drop that penny novel Or flash
paper, and let us have little chat.
Yes, Indian and detective stories are
thrilling, but don't 60 too fast. The chan
ces are that you will never see a live Indian
outside of circus or a street parade; as for
killing them-don't.
| No doubt you could strap bowie knife
and revolver around your waist and take a
loaf of bread under one arm and the PAM
phlet life of Buffalo Bill under the other,
and 60 west and Stay Indians by the cord
but don't do it.
An Indian has feelings, the same as a
white man, and as few of them have laid by
any bonds or mortgages, or invested to any
great extent in life insurance, you must
realize that the widows and orphans of your
victims would be left in a sad plight.
| AS for detective stories, go and talk with
a real detective or a county sheriff. Ask
'em about "Old Sleuth's'' DISCUSSES and ex-
ploits and magic luck, and then listen care
fully while they tell you what fool you
are making of yourself by grinding the end
| OF your nose against such trashy fiction.
We want you to read, but for the Lord S
sake look about for something different!
There are good boy books, your father
takes the home papers, and if you should
read page or two of history now and then
you would not waste you time.
The crowd of New York publishers who
are flooding the country with flash papers
and penny novels are your worst enemies.
No matter TO them whether you are a respec-
table man or a murderer, SO long as they get
your money. Their stores are the basest
lies, too silly even for boy ten years old to
believe.
Now, then, look about you and see how
many men in our stores and factories and
| offices and upon the streets are getting gray
and wrinkled and old. Twenty years from
now not one in ten of whom you see in
business to day will be able to put their
shoulders to the wheel. Even a decade
will retire tens of thousands. What then?
Why, my son, this is world which knows
no rest until old age compels it.
When the men of to-day are laid up in
dry docks the boys of to-day will be the
fresh hands called on deck to work the
ship. They will be the merchants, far
mers, manufacturers and professional men
of the future. You will have to bear the
burdens and anxieties of keeping this coun-
try on the track Of peace and prosperity,
and your voice will sound from the halls of
Congress and your pens write works to
burn in the memory of future generations.
Come, now, begin right. Don't you get
into your head that an Indian-k killer is
about four pegs above a State Senator.
Don't imagine that detective would not
trade places with lawyer very quick if he
had his say about it. Don't you believe
that an embezzler, burglar or murderer is a
hero, and that men admire him. Drop
your novels and flash papers as a starter.
The boy who feeds on such trash gets false
impressions of the world, and is more Ger.
tain to bring up in prison than in respec-
table employment. If you have pistol
fling it aside. The man who carries one
about the streets is coward, and men
mark him as such. If you have bowie
knife on hand turn it over to your mother
for meat or bread knife. If you have a
sand club lying around loose shy it into the
ditch before anybody finds out how empty
your head has been. That pair of brass
knuckles can be tossed into the river;
cold Sleuth' will make bonfire, and then
you are ready to begin life and to ask
yourself what trade or profession shall be
yours when done in school.