Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1912-06-17

nothing will do but he must go to
the Big City and be a cartoonist.
He is clever, you say, and so say his
teachers, and he really can draw such
funny pictures of people that every one
in town laughs over them, and he
doesn't take any interest in anything
on earth but pencils, paper-and ideas.
Shall you let him go? Where? When ?
Ought you to sell your home and go
with him to take care of him? Is 1t
right to let him go alone among stran-
gers? What if he should fall? Who's
going to take care of him if he should
be i'll? How Is he going to know what
TO say to the editors when he does
see them?
Dear me, what mother you are, to
be sure; what a regular mother from
the very first letter of your name to
the very last drop of ink at the end
of your SIGNATURE
Let him! Why. what else can you
do but let him? He isn't yours; he's
his own.
Yes. I know I know you've nursed
him and walked the floor with him,
and you've sat up at night and taken
care of him through that spell of ty-
phoid when the doctor said there
wasn't a chance for him to pull through.
You've cooked for him and mended
for him and agonized for him and
hoped for him and lived for him.
Let's see, it's nearly nineteen years
AFRO that YOU heard his first feeble wall
isn't it? Nineteen years! How many
parties did you stay at home from for
mis- sake; how many dresses have you
worn when you really should have had
new one, to save money for his new
suit? How many times have you plan
ned and thought and worried to help
him out of some foolish boyish scrape ?
He is all you have, you say; all you
live for. Well. then in the name OF
Justice. give him his chance to live.
Let him learn how few people there
are who will care a cent whether he is
hungry or not Let him learn how
manv fellows there are in the world
who are twice as clever as he; let him
EARN that the only way to get any
thing on earth is to work for it and
work in dead and desperate earnest
Let nun go. Let him learn to be
lonesome and neglected and made fun
Of: let him learn to fight his own way.
Give him room. give him time, give
him freedom. or what he thinks is free
dom.
Your boy is too big and too strong
and TOO smart to be ruled by you any
longer, little mother; let him go and
rule himself and let him go with a
smile and a blessing.
Ungrateful. selfish, cruel-hearted?
Not a bit; he's a boy, that's all. Some
day he VIII be man if you'll let him.
Dependent upon you, is he, under it
all? Can't find his own socks, and
wouldn't know how to buy suit Of
clothes for himself if he had all the
money of Croesus?
He'll find his socks all right when he
has to. and about that suit-don't you
worry. He'll get cheated a few times,
bel: buy the wrong thing and have to
yesAr 1t. and hen iearn.
A cartoonist, Ell? Poor boy, he'll
learn to laugh at his own work and
TO smile at his own disappointments,
and he'll learn to be thankful for a
chance to be a plain, every day dub"
as they call them in the art rooms Of
the big papers He'll be joked for
coming from a country town, and he'll
be made fun Of till there isn't an ounce
of conceit left in him and sometimes
he'll feel as if he'd give all the world
Just to be little again and run home
and hide his face in your faded old
dress. and cry and have you comfort
him.
And then he'll fall in love with a
fool, and he'll fall in love with a girl
who will do her worst to break his
heart. and he'll fall in love with a
woman old enough to he his mother
and he'll spend every penny he makes
buying presents Tor some cold hearted
creature who will make fun Of him to
his very face.
And he'll get into evil ways maybe