The Harrison times., 1906-07-21
Anvil Sparks.

deed the land allowed for sidewalks
and the cities and towns are obliged
to build the sidewalks themselves.
The Waterloo Reporter, Iowa,
says that. is what they are doing
there and other places also. Rocke-
fcller could give the Devil pointers on
how to run the Internal regions and
then some
The fast life" always kills. One
of the seasons most terrible wrecks
was the "'T wentieth Century Limit
ed" The New York Central want
ed the eighteen-hour schedule The
train running between that metrop-
oils and Chicago must run seventy
miles an hour. 1t was the speed
that killed The hands of modern
cOmmercialism are stained with
blood. The strenuous existence Is
making men old before their time.
The mad race for wealth is breaking
the wings of happiness 1t makes
impossible the development of high
er intellectual and spiritual life
There is a speed that kills
Put on the brakes, Slow down.
Some dav the reverse-Iever will lose
its cunning. Some dav, by its awful
momentum, the splendid machinery
will go to the junk pile The man OF
this age has become dazed with
vast resources. He tolls till his
eyes are sunken, and his cOuntenance
is all pinched with care. Its the
common story of the mad rush for
wealth He chooses ffnmolation on
crossD9ft gold. He's a stranger
among his children, a vampire
among friends. prisoner before the
bar of his conscience, a source of dis
tress to his wife, a victim of frenzied
finance. No man can amass a fabu-
uIOus fortune and at the same time
hold intact the finer virtues of the
soul. Extreme wealth, like extreme
poverty, Is an atmosphere ladened
with deadly poison, Happiness is
not generated at either extreme.
And vet we enter the race-the last
one of us.
More and more, I'm trying to
learn that Iife's failures, as we'll as
its triumphs, enter into its final
grandeur. Balloonists say that in a
far-off height the dIscordant notes
OF earth so blend with the beautiful
as to finish out one great harmony
Had we our own way these disap-
and failures would be
left out)of the final consum7nation
They seem to us as a travesty on
happiness And yet-Oh, let me IN
to the secret-a and vet, these strange,
things are part of the
mighty fabric | cannOt see their
now; but some day, when
the vision is undimmed and sordid
sense Is not dull, we shall know.
I'LL then let us wait. knowing
that
These struggling tides of life that
seem,
In aimlesss, wayward course to
tend,
Are eddies OF the mighty stream
That rolls to its appointed end.
This is the era of the lightning eN-
press Distant places must be quick
" reached. Nothing succeeds like
that's a false philosophy
Some mems real success Is but the
story of appalling failure. Get there.
that's the shibboleth The daughter
grinds off some Hungarian raphsody
with the crank of a pianola BOYS |
quit our public schools even in grad
uatiOn to round out n three months |
course iii college. They call it cdu-
cation We want our classic cours- |
aS strictly ipterliuear Getricb
quick has crept into everything. |
Life is only n surface disturbance. |
1t looks like a rich vein now, but |
you come to find its terrible deCep- |
ton Some gold is only n pocket de
post; other gold is found more and |
more as YOU follow the lode to rich
er depths. We're living in the age of
and illusion. Thought
and action are nothing until they
demonstrate an earning power.
This IS the Rome to which all roads
must lead. But to build that Rome
means dissolution and oblivion.
Oh, for the golden age when thought
5 the aristOcracv and the kingdom
Of brains shall be the realm for which
we sigh
This age comes to US richly laden
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