Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1890-08-30
UNDER THE WHEEL.
unm1in Gariand's New Play-Thc Single
Tax Idea in tho Drama.

11nm1ln Gariand's New Play-Thc Single
Tax Idea in tho Drama.
In the july number of the Arena Mr..
Hamlin Garland's new play, Under the
Wheel is printed in full. 1t is play
with Il purpose, and that purpose is the
demonstration that under existing
economic conditions there is no escape
for the honest toiler frcm grinding pow
erty.
The play opens with scene in Bos-
ton tenement house, whore Jason Ed
wards, his wife and two daughters have
their home. Edwards is man who,
having learned his trade and married,
began life with the hope of securing a
modest competence. His eldest daugh-
ter, Allie, evidently received good ed
ucation, and Mt the time tho play opens
is studying music with view to becom-
ing singer. A second daughter Lin
ME- much younger than her sister, ap-
pears from her talk not to have had AL
lies educational advantages, but she is
an important figure in the drama. Allie
is introduced to us as already engaged
to young newspaper man named
Reeves, and the first glimpse we have
of the social problem is in n conversa-
tion between these two in scene /. Mrs.
Edwards invites the young man to stay
to supper and the following colloquy
takes place:
Recves-No, thank you, I've got
little work at the office, and then I've
got to go out and report an anti-pov
erty meeting at the Temple. Special
job.
Alice-What kind of meeting is that,
for PHYS sake?
Reeves preparing to go)-oh, a
cranky kind. Henry George started it.
Some absurd idea about abolishing pow
erty.
Alice with profound sigh)-I wish
it wasn't so absurd. l don't see why
poverty is so persistent in this age of
invention.
Reeves las if struck by her words)-
Come to think of it, it is more absurd to
think the abolition of poverty absurd.
Why shouldn't it be abolished? What's
the good of progress if it don't? (He
muses. with bent head.) | don't see
where the laugh comes in myself, Do
YOU know, I've been thinking and writ
ing on these things of late? | don't
know why; it's in the air, guess.
Everybody's got some cure. cleans his
elbow on a chair. speaks in slow, deep,
musng voice.) stood on the Brooklyn
bridge the other day and looked down
on New York. Over me scared and
sung those stupendous cables, the
marvel of mans skill, etched on the
sky, delicate as spiders web.
stood there looking down at the sea
of grimy roofs, lava-lilSe, hideous
flood of brick and mortar. cracked and
scanned, and monstrous for its lack of
limo or touch of beauty--a modern city.
/ saw men running to and fro, like ants,
lost in the tumult of life and death
struggle saw pale girls sewing there
in dens reeling with pestilence. i saw
myriads of homes where the children
could play only in the street or on the
sooty roof, colonies of hopeless settlers
sixty feet from their mother earth. And
over me scared tho bridge to testify to
tho inventive genius of man. And i said
then what say now, that men have in
vented thousand ways of producing
wealth, but not one for properly disbut-
ing it, / don't know where the trouble
is. If we once knew the trouble. some
body'd find cure. Abolition OF proper
ty (lio muses. a moment, then starts.)
We'll, goodbye, I'll write this up in n
leader. with n return to his cheerful
manner, takes her hand, makes an elab-
crate obeisance.) ! await your pleas
ure. Farewell, my queen. (Goes out
without looking baclS.)
Alice-Nooks after him smilingly.
AS she comes back the smile fades from
her face.) Isn't it terrible to be poor,
mother?
Mrs. Il. with quiet pathos)-Yes, dear;
but I'vo kind O. got used to it. don't
look f'r any thing else now. don't care
s. much FIR m'self, but I'd like t. see my
children safe from it.
Alice (seated with bent head)-Oh,
how sweet it must be to be free from the
fear of poverty! TO feel that you don't
need to scrimp and pinch, and turn
dresses and dye feathers, and wear old
shoes; to feel that food will come when
you need it; to have the soul set free for
art. (Leaping up, her face aglow) But
I'll win yet, mother; feel in my soul
that have the gift I'll take you out
of this
Presently Edwards returns, who, after
some chaif with Linnie, remarks to his
wife that it seems very hot and that II