Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1912-03-22

Goldenloeks would come riding by
But %hy waste time on such tommy
rot This is the year of 1872. You are
Il woman. You've lost the road to
the Castles of Spain no grown up
ever did find the path and all the
WITNESSES and phantasies of long ago
have blown away into the Never
Never Land.
The prince rode North and met
GwendoIyn Snuggs, the bankers snub-
nosed daughter-and. if YOU keep on
reading. the soup will be boiling all
over the stove. and your boy will be
home from school before the lunch
table is set.
Why. bless us, this brings us back
again to the dream. and now YOU
must finish. because it was he that
your imagination fondled-this son
that would be born to you-straight
and strong, thewed. proud of soul-a
man-child splendid with gifts of
mind and person.
But since YOU are not a bankers
snub-nosed daughter and Your son
was born with a bawl in his mouth in
stead of a silver spoon-which latter
must be an extremely uncomfortable
Xperience-somehew you've lost the
habit of gliding tomorrows with futile
longings. You've become a very mat
ter-of-fact person. in whose calcula-
tons washtubs and caketins and dust
cloths play such an important part
that YOU haven't time to go shopping
through the garrets of memory.
You sniff with bitter incredulity
when YOU hear of wishing rings, and
such like bosh, and even if you won't
acknowledge it, you've lost a mighty
lot of faith, simply because things
didn't happen the way you planned.
And YOU won't look up and see how
much more wonderful the world has
become since the Grimms and Hans
Christian Andersen went out of style
and Edison and Tesla and Marconi
have come into fashion.
If truth be told the first real fairy
spells are just beginning to glorify the
world. There never was an era of
magic before. But now all things can
he-your dreams can still come true
the maddest, farthest farest dreams
ever flung to the stars.
Any SON of woman can achieve the
ultimate in this century of r-hurled
dares.
Manager or mansion-cradle of gold,
or trundle of husk. predestine nothing
We have begun TO look the truth
straight in the eye and to measure
humans by the standard of fitness, not
by the moss grown, moth-eaten tradi-
ton of creed and breed.
The meanest lie that even bighted
the universe-the lie of caste, of SUI
periority by births gasping under
the throttling heel of Progress
East and West the thrones are top
ping. The kingdom of brain has be-
gun. the sovereignty of ignorance is
ending
The Golden Age has dawned. This
is the mighty moment. This is the
most brilliant hour among all the IL
lustrinus sands of time. The Cenii
have returned, but they no longer
serve the lamp of Aladdin instead
they are slaves of the lamp of learn
ing. The Titians rencarnated, fail
with arms of steel. swing the trip
hammer spin the turbine in the wa
terfall. shovel mountains off the map,
and bore pathways through a hun
dred miles of granite.
Sons of laborers. farmers and clerks
-grandsons of peasants, serfs and
foundlings. are saving continents in
half, building tongues to talk across
the seas, changing water into light,
making corn out of desert sand.
Your old dream was not big enough
If the seed of deed is in your son
! if he is logged and patient and sell
respecting and ageous-wholesom
of mind. stalwart and bold-he bears
keys that unlock every gate-Woman'
World.