The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1906-05-31
MocK1NG BIRD OR "LAN1ER. .

1 have read recently an editorial by
that gifted, trenchant, and versatile
writer, the Hon. John Temple Graves,
than whom there is not more golden
hearted, tempered, sweet-natured,
and kindly disposed gentleman among
the noble fraternity Of newspaper men,
endorsing Harry stillwell Edwards
proposition to change the name Of the
sweetest, the most charming, inspiring
and delectable songster of the forest.
The tenderest associations of child
hood in our Southland, as we listen to
the sweet MARBLE as he pours forth his
vester or matin song to the Great Crea-
tor, awaking with his melody like
response from human hearts.
Every reader of litureture and ad-
mirer of the beautiful and poetic and
absurd, knows that the President ad-
mires literary genius, and is delight
ed, infatuated with evidences of
strong mind.
II must required a herculean effort
on the part of Mr.. Edwards to dig
from the great warehouse of edeas this
marvellous thought. 1t Is an incontra-
yersible evidence Of surperb talent
and whatever Of dubicity may have ex-
listed in andy critics mind as to the re-
dundancy Of Mr.. Edwards's intellect is
now removed.
Sweeter than the songs Of men, re-
miniscent as it may be, I remember an
old plantation in the splendid country
Of Gilbert, and my mind reverts to an
old oak growing near the window of my
room, where each morning 1 was
awakened by the sWeet-voiced bird
Singing his morning song, and doubt
less every boy and girl raised in the
country has like sweet hallowed associ-
ations. Never shall forget a careless
act of my life in passing along hedge
row near old Beaver Dam in Ebert
County. and seeing a bird fly into the
corner Of the fence, picked up a stone
and thoughlessly threy it at the bird.
Not seeing it fly away went to the cor
ner of the fence and found its lifeless
body lying on the ground and picking
1t up I saw nearby in the nnearby
thorny bush a helpnless fledglings call
ing for their mother whom had slain.
The abuse I gave myself for my though
less cruelty taught me a lesson to be
kind to all dumb creatures.
Sweet as Mr.. Edwards sings, in prose,
would not venture to suggest that his
name should be changed to Tom
Jones, because-forsooth, Tom Jones
sang dulcet enough to charm Mr.. Ed
wards. I may say possibly that the
melodious echo of Tom Jones's song
excited the sympathies of the genial,
cultured quill driver of Macon to the
extent that he was moved with tender
gratitude to feather Tom Jones's nest.
Sublimely eXhilarating and pleasing
as may have been the notes of Lanier,
Harry Stillwell Edwards or Tom Jones,
whose warbling melodies have charmed
Mr.. Edwards, they have no right to in
wade the forest and change the name of
possibly the most magnetic bird that
ever sang. No, the name of the
knocking bird shall not be changed to
Tanier. Harry Edwards of Tom Jones
We may not be able to dictate appoint
rents. but in the stately halls of JUS
tice. in the enchanting forest thrill with
the love for its rights we would not
tntrude or attempt to intrude upon the
rights of these harmless little feathered
inhabitants of the woods, who never
vet been 50 aggressive as to assault our
vested prerogatives.
How would Edwards like to have his
name changed to that of whooper-er-
viii? How would he like to have the
name of Tom Jones changed to that Of
bul bat? In that arial spirit in which
he has always written, I know that he
would stoutly protest.
An appeal is made to the Atlanta
JOURNAL to come to the rescue of the
knocking bird, as it rallied to the de-
tense of the masses. -Letter to Atlanta
gonEnsi.