The morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1899-1930, 1904-12-25
HOLD Up YOUR HEAD"

All that has been written and sung
of the fathomless depths OF mothers
love and loyalty. cannot express half
the vivid beauty OF this most exquisite
ly pure and tender OF all the human
emotions, This fact was pathetically
exemplified by sad little drama in real
life which occurred in one of the courts
a short time ago.
Four men accused of crime against
the government were brought before
the tribunal of justice for preliminary
hearing. So strong was the evidence
against them that the judge imposed a
heavy bond for their safe appearance
at the trial of the case. Resourceless.
forlorn they could not meet the legal
requirements and were remandei TO
Jail to await trial. A portion Of the
audience which probably took more
agonized interest in the proceedings
than the prisoners themselves were
their female relatives. Among them
was an old, gray-headed woman, who,
in spite of her cumbrous years showed
straightforward eye and sturdy
front--the mother of one OF the ae-
cused
AS the detected procession passed
out OF the dock and shuffled toward
the prisoners room. it came to a dead
halt before these fearful women who
had just seen those dearest on earth
to them practically branded as crimi-
nails. There was mutterej, sobbing
sympathy, a moments yielding to that
spirit of dependency which comes at
such times to crushed, SHINING human
ity, and the four men went on with
dragging footsteps toward the vehicle
which was to transfer them to the
chill guardianship Of locks and bars. 1t
was one OF the bitter crises in the lives
Of those men and women-on the one
side love tinctured with commisera-
tion and vague sense OF degradation,
or the other overwhelming shame,
poignant sorrow over the woe wrought
In the lives of those innocent, weeping
and a sickening realization Of
the collapse Of their ow honorable
One would have said, on the
impulse, that here was all somber
tragedy, not ray Of hope, not even a
note of encouragement for
these men with disgrace thick upon
hem
"HoId Up Your Head!" o..
Shary in penetrating tones, these
words broke the pitiful
Iilence. They were spoken by the old,
ray woman, the mother Of one Of the
llleged felons, to her son, who, with
,urning, downcast face, was slipping |
rom the stare Of publicity with his
The effect was electrical.
Inspired by that same voice which
Iad lulled him in infancy, which had
his little pattering prayers,
nd which had given him reverent
God d-speed" when he bravely faced the
Torld as a man, this creature who 10
econd before had hung his head in
opeless shame, Strengthened up with
he stiffness Of a ramrod, cast loving
lance into those watchful old eyes,
urveyed the gaping spectators boldly,
nd strode out of the room with the
lien Of a man who goes bravely to
1eet his fate, fortified by the love
vhich knows no limitations save the
ght of its object.
His guilt, his shame, his fall mat
cred little to her. He was her son!
he fact that he had sinned, that he
ad been weak, that other men looked
18th Indifferent contempt on him, did
OF change the sacredness Of that re-
Ltion. They might have all, separate
or collectively, spurned and insulted
Im-she would still have been there
, brace his spirit, to make him feel
lat in the moment of his deepest hui
liliation, he had a friend unaffected
y anything save a desire to see him
leet manfully, unafraid, any III Of for
Inc or Of his own making.