Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1914-02-19

- rON. 29-I have the constant rear,
M Diary. that my daily chronicles
L are so imbued with the spirit of
petticoat rule that you will get the no
tion in that parchment skull of yours
that | have developed womanish traits,
and am learning how to knit and am
reading Emerson, and doing other
things which women seldom do TIL
they have become resigned to age and
spinsterhood, and have ceased strug-
Cling.
But how can l write of business az
fairs when the years l spent in the
office have SO sickened me / am glad
to turn over everything to my assist
ants and never enter the office door?
am surrounded by women, and if
nv confessions to you contain express
sions of admiration and criticism OF the
sex. am l TO blame?
No man knows what goes on around
his home till he is forced to spend ms
time there. The man who is down
town from Monday morning until sat
urday night. and is compelled by SICK
ness TO spend rare day at home, is
both surprised and shocked by the ar
of possession with which strange wom-
on walk through his home until he
LEARNS thev are the Washerwoman, the
sewing girl, or the cleaner and that
they have been coming there for years
have been staying at home so long
now that the grocer boy no longer re-
CARDS me as an interloper, and If the
milkman catches a glimpse of me 1t is
with a nod of recognition. The first
time he saw me he thought / was
burglar.
In short, l am becoming acquainted
with the mechanism of my own nome
an acquaintanceship never formed by
men in fifty years if they continue IN
business downtown.
When | tire of my books in the Ii
brary, | follow Richards around TO talk
about Manette, and have become so
spoiled by the air of welcome when
greets me all over the house Can, now
few men know what that means) that
| spend many hours in my housekeep-
er's little sitting room, and one Gay
when what Manette calls "a big rail-
road maggot" called to see me, ne touhN
me sitting on the kitchen table listening
to the cooks story of her lover back III
ireland who fell into a well and was
drowned, and she never ceased mourn
ing him. though she has been married
three times since.
These folks who have been married as
often as three or four times always in
terst me | told the COOK L should teel
like a rented house if l had had as
many as three wives; that l should rear
there was something the matter with
the plumbing or the drainage IN my
heart if its tenants didn't stay longer
than that, but she didn't agree with
me.
She says that marrying is all that is
going on in most folks lives; and per
haps she is right l know there has
been little going on in mine.
But when | began, Dairy, to explain
why my stories to you are so full of
homely details, it was as a prelude to
the description of our Thanksgiving din
ner. There were 80 at the table. and
Manette. all in white. and happy and
CAV because she was to have the I'M
usual privilege of staying up to dance,
sat at the end opposite me-
When we were all seated, there was a
pause, and then this most blessedest
child closed her eyes, bent her head,
and said: Dear Jesus, this is just
little prayer by a very little girl who
doesn't know much. and can't talk nice
words like big folks. But she wants to
say thank you. and please bless Uncle
Max Amen"
saw Tompkins, who sat at her right,
brush away a tear and when | caught
Richards eyes they were not entirely
dry. Those two good souls, who shared