Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1914-05-20
FIRST PRIZE Goes
TO LORRAINE WILSON
She Took Lead Easily On
Thought and Composition.
Norton EVersoI Was Accorded Sc
cond Place. Following Is Miss
Wilson's Entire Grafton.
Crowded out last week.

nual Judge Mills contest, held last
Friday night in the Congregational
church, was won by Lorraine Wilson,
on the subject "War versus Peace
second place was given to Norton
Eversoll, whose grafton was entitled
Solving the Problem of Crime"
The contest between these two was
exceedingly close, Miss Wilson hav-
ing the advantage in thought and
composition, while Mr.. Eversoll was
slightly better in delivery.
Here is Miss Wilson's grafton:
WAR VS.. PEACE
It was towards evening of a beautiful
summer day, fifty years ago. A mes
Senger was coming up the street OF
a pretty little village in Southern Wis
Consin. He stopped at cottage where
a talented young lady and her little
son lived, silently handed her pack
age and departed She turned and with
trembling fingers quickly united the
fastenings. Suddenly she gave cry
and the little son who was standing
near by, rushed into his mothers arms
duu O1 Ills nCdu So11O1 OCl1Ch-
en- woman, so reserved and silent be-
fore, now poured a rushing torrent
of sobs and tears. Her husband had
been killed on the battle field. The
package contained a picture of the
mother and son, some locks of hair
and a letter bearing the last words
of the dying husband. God only,
knew the sorrow and grief of that
oI4'C soul What CIunpf ToOTonriOc
surged over her heart as if in mock
cry to the blood stained picture that
was now stamped upon her brain. Re
collection of happy home memoir
les of the proud, sad hour when the
young husband marched away with
the picture close to his heart, the dark
day when most cherished hopes were
blasted and the brave soldier lay
buried beneath southern skies. Oh,
out under the shadow of that humble
home Woman's heart fought with
the silent mementoes of her dead re
quiring a courage equal to that Of a
soldier. This is but one OF the many,
many, true instances that could be
told in connection with war. Multi
ply it by a thousand and a thousand
and a thousand and the number would
be small in comparison to the worlds
similar incidents.
CAS- we cast our eyes over the his
tory of nations, we behold with horror
the succession of murderous events
by which their progress has been
marked. AS the hunter traces the
wild beast, when pursued to his den,
by the drops of blood upon the earth
so we follow man, faint, weak, stag
gering with wounds, through the black
forest of the past, which he has red
dened with his gore.''
1t is beyond our conception to real
ize the suffering, sadness and awful
misery caused by the wars in this
world of ours. Think of the millions
of souls and multiplied millions of
dollars that have been wiped away
upon the battlefield. War is a word
too dreadful to be compared, which
introduces no picture but that of de-
privation and wretchedness for men,
of weeping and heartache for women;
a word which has haunted man for
countless ages; a word which stands
a blot on every page and on almost
every line of history; a symbol of
crushed hope, of terrible cruelty, the
very climax of anguish.
War is a crime against humanity, a
trade of barbarians. In the sacrifice
Of human life and in the waste of
human treasure it affects the nations,
and the sad effect of mangled bodies,
of death and of desolatiOn, endure long
after the thunders of war are ceased.
War unhinges society, disturbs the in
dustry and scatters poisonous seeds
Of disease and immortality, which con-
tinue to terminate and spread their
influence long after the battles are
over 1t absOrbs the wealth and energy
which might be so much better devot-
ed to the improvement of a country.
Oh, the lingering suffering, the awful
suffering that attends a nation pre-
pairing for war, sustaining war, or re-
covering from war. The suffering
which no one sees and no one hears
but which eats so deep into the very
vitals Of human progress. Oh, the
waste Of stored life and money that
could be saved for the benefit of hui
manity.
How true are the words of that
beautiful song which you have all
heard. 1t shows us picture OF young
man on the battlefield. A battle is
about to take place and his thoughts
wander back to his home and mother
and he says Just before the battle,
mother, I am thinking most of you,
while upon the field we're watching
with the enemy in view. Comrades
brave are round me lying, filed with
thoughts Of home and God for they
know that on the morrow, some will
sleep beneath the sod Farewell,
mother, you may never press me to
your heart again; but, oh, you'll not
forget me, mother, if I'm numbered
with the slain" Nor is this a song of
yesterday only, for the first American
killed in our recent struggle with
Mexico was young man Of the
United States Navy, only twenty years
of age, who was shot while putting
up the American dag over the custom
house in Vera Cruz.
War has it's place in history. Some